In the Failing Light
by Aveira
Summary: Rialla was a human raised by the Dalish. Sent to observe the Conclave and report back, she winds up in the fight of her life. (Cullen x OC) and everyone else. Rated M for language, gore, and anything else that might happen.
1. The Conclave

**A/N: Everything Dragon Age belongs to Bioware, and I love them for it. I'm just borrowing their characters for a little fun of my own.**

 **OoOoOoO**

"Creators, Rialla! If you aren't the _slowest_ shem I've ever met." Keeper Shia'sal groaned, rubbing the bridge of her nose irritably. "Now, this is important. I hope you've been paying attention."

"Yes, I know mother." She smiled patiently at her, taking the keepers delicate hands in her own. "Shemlen though I may be, I will not bring shame to our clan." She kissed the older elf on the cheek. "I promise, mamae." She whispered. Shia'sal impulsively threw her arms around her, holding her face to hers as she did when Rialla was still a little thing covered in more dirt than the forest floor.

Shia'sal admired the woman before her. She was as true an elf as any other of her clan, save for her parentage. She never doubted that Keeper Shia'sal was her mother in every aspect that mattered. Oddly, the clan had never questioned the Keepers decision to raise the child. A scout had found the baby, laying in mud and wrapped in a tattered blanket. In doubt, he and his companion brought the child to the keeper, who took one look and declared they would raise her. Not all Dalish had forgotten the tale of Aveline, though Rialla differed greatly from the legendary warrior.

She was a menace, playful and mischievous. As dainty as any elf maiden and twice as savage in a fight as any beast. In her now twenty some years of living with the clan, an opportunity like no other presented itself. Peace. The Divine herself had called for a great meeting, a council to seek a way to end the fighting between mages and their Templar masters. She was chosen, along with Nerathiel, to go and attend. Nerathiel was next in line to be Keeper and was like a sister to Rialla, she was over joyed at the idea of traveling to the Temple of Sacred Ashes, seeing the Divine Justinia, and seeing a Templar in the flesh.

"You and Nera will need to travel light and swiftly." Shia'sal droned on, carefully collecting various blades, pieces of clothing, and string for her bow and placing them in her pack. "Stay off the roads and avoid any human contact. They may not see you as Dalish, but the will certainly see it in Nera. Her being a mage could mean death for her, and you." Shia'sal worried her hands together.

Rialla listened attentively, watching her mother pace and pick at her things she'd packed for their trip. "Mother…" She started toward her.

"Rialla, I'm terrified to let you leave!" Shia'sal half shouted, tears stinging her eyes. "What if you never return? You are not my child and yet…I fear losing you more than my freedom." Rialla carefully pulled her mother into another gentle embrace.

"You are my mother, mamae. I have no other family than this one, and I would _never_ leave it." She spoke softly, gently rubbing her mothers' back.

She sniffed and pulled back, drying her eyes with the back of her hand. "I know, da'assan. I know, but a mother worries." She smiled. "You've grown to be such a beautiful woman." She brushed Rialla's cheek. "Still covered in dirt." Both women chuckled.

"Ir abelas, hahren. It's time." One of the hunters stood just inside the tent.

With a heavy sigh and one final embrace, Rialla took her leave of Shia'sal. The entire clan was gathered with halla and prayers to the Creators for good luck. Nerathiel jogged over, dark brown tresses dancing freely around her shoulders and face, pale green eyes full of curiosity. Rialla kept her ashen blonde pulled back in a braided bun, her own green eyes twinkling with mirth at the sight of her sister.

The two women smiled and said their goodbyes, heading toward the north. Haven was a week away in good weather. The Conclave was in two.

 **OoOoOoO**

It took just under eight days for them to make it to the Haven Chantry. Already tensions were high, mages and Templar had settled on either side of an invisible line and refused to speak to one another. Rialla had noticed that there were only human men and women on the Templar side, on the mage side there were all races, even dwarves. Rune crafting was not an inherently magical talent, but with rising fears of mage rebellions even they had become targets of fear and animosity.

Elves of all kinds were present, some Dalish and some from various circles. She recognized a few of the Dalish Keepers.

"This seems so strange, Rialla." Nerathiel mumbled, tucking a strand of hair behind a pointed ear. "I do not think it wise to ever have so much power in one place." She made her way through the ranks of mages.

Rialla nodded silently, measuring her words. "It's dangerous, unusual, and careless." She said softly as she surveyed the crowd. "How far is the temple from here? Maybe we could head there now and wait."

"For six days? No!" It came out more high pitched and angry than Nera had meant. "That's foolish, we could be killed up there by the soldiers. I am safer with the mages; you go have a look around." She nodded toward the trail leading up the side of the mountain to the castle like building. "That's more your thing anyway."

She didn't think much of it. Nera wasn't comfortable around most humans, but she was more comfortable around the mages. She felt a sort of kinship with them, being a wielder of magic. Her skill being the reason she was chosen as the Keepers Second. She and Rialla had been raised as sisters, neither being born to the clan and both raised by Shia'sal. In her way, Rialla never saw the difference between her and the other members of the clan. She was fleet footed, stealthy, and a skilled huntress. The only actual difference were her round ears. A physical trait she thought of as more of a defect than a symbol of her true lineage.

The trail to the Temple of Sacred Ashes was quiet. Periodically she'd spy a Templar Knight or various soldiers scouting. She made sure to watch her step near them, not wanting to cause any conflict before the Divine could even speak. To her surprise, no one seemed to mind her wandering. She took her time exploring the rooms and halls, various paintings and writings. She was instantly in love with the building and its supposed history.

As she rounded a corner she collided with a young soldier. He let out a startled yelp before apologizing profusely. "I apologize. I didn't see you."

Rialla chuckled and gave him a dismissive wave. "It's quite alright, I'm sure I'm not actually supposed to be here." The soldier nodded, embarrassed. He walked with her to the entrance, showing her the road back to Haven. On the way up was a large procession of women in chantry robes in front and behind a rather large litter adorned with white and gold cloth. She was in awe of the woman Divine Justinia represented. It was a shame she couldn't see her face. She watched until they, and their escort, had come close enough she could pass without notice. She rushed back to tell Nerathiel what she'd seen and her 'close encounter.'

 **OoOoOoO**

"You _saw_ her?" Nerathiel gave her a suspicious glance as she nibbled on a piece of an apple. "Is she an ugly shem?"

"I don't know, didn't see her body, just the little carriage they carried with her in it." Rialla said thoughtfully. "I've really had very little to do with actual humans. It was a little odd to see, honestly. I couldn't tell you what, exactly, I was looking at. It was a strange ritual, all these women worshiping this…well she's just a woman, and a shemlen." She huffed, brushing a wayward strand of hair from her face. "I don't understand them, lethallan."

When the day came for the actual meeting to happen, Rialla was uneasy. Hundreds had shown for this talk. Chantry Grand Clerics, who were lovely women. Templar Knight Captains and Commanders, some of the most intimidating men and women she'd ever laid eyes on. And then there were the mages. They were a strange group. Of all the different people there, they seemed to care the least for color, creed, or race. It was a common bond of magic and their shared belief instilled in them by the famed 'Andraste' herself. 'Magic is meant to aide man, not to rule over him' seemed to be their mantra. Rialla couldn't understand it, how could there be so many? Why would you put them all together in a tower like some stricken maiden waiting for salvation or death? It is a gift to be able to touch the fade, walk among it and speak with the spirits. Not that it wasn't dangerous, as she had heard several circles had discovered. Taking anything, especially magic, in vain typically meant death. Or worse.

Nerathiel straightened her tunic for the third time in less than thirty seconds, she readjusted her staff against her back, and adjusted the leathers on her legs and feet.

"Don't go." Rialla spoke so suddenly she startled herself. She hadn't meant to sound so frightened, but something felt so _wrong_.

Nerathiel looked up at her through her hair from her spot on the ground. "What's wrong, lethallan?" She smiled reassuringly. "I thought you'd be excited to see your own people. Are you afraid?" She asked teasingly

"Yes!" She hissed back. "But not because of them. Flat ears mean nothing to me, despite my current-" She waved a hand over herself. "predicament. Something _else_ is wrong. Please, Nera. Please do not go." Rialla was near panic, the knot in her stomach growing by the second.

Nera laughed her musical laugh and let out a plaintive sigh. "Dear little sister, we promised to observe and report to our clan. We will only stay as long as we have to and then we will race home, fast as a fennec." She stood slowly, gently brushing Rialla's hair away from her face. "You worry too much, da'len."

Rialla leaned into her hand and took a few measured breaths. "I know, you're right." Nera took her hand and led her toward the Temple.

Once they reached it they were ushered in by Templar Knights. Enchanters, Chantry clerics, and various knights of the Order were milling about, waiting for the Divine to show herself. Rialla felt her skin crawling, breaking out in a cold sweat and a fit of nausea. She excused herself and went to find a room less crowded. She knew of a rather large room with a sort of altar in the center. At one point a relic of some kind sat on display there but now was nothing but an empty room.

She turned a corner, nearing the room. There was a noise, a strangled cry for help. Slipping into the shadows against the wall, Rialla crept forward. She heard it again, a muffled cry for help and a deeper, more guttural voice that was sure to haunt her nightmares for years to come. Her fear spurred her to action and she broke cover and ran down the hall, throwing the heavy door open.

"What's going on here?!" She was instantly terrified and furious. She'd never seen the woman crying for help before, but she knew in her heart of hearts that it was the Divine, the woman who would have united all of Thedas.

"Run, warn them!" She called out in her heavily Orlesian accent. Rialla would have done just that but for the creature standing before her. Tall, hideous, and Creators it looked like some sort of blighted _man_. The skin on its face twisted and pulled back leaving a portion of his teeth visible, eyes burning into her, and magic like she'd never seen before in her life. He pointed one long talon like finger at her and ordered them to attack, the Divine used the distraction to try and break free, startling the creature enough it dropped a large ball that seemed to be made of stone. It rolled to Rialla's feet and she impulsively picked it up. If that walking terror wanted it she'd take it and run.

But she never had the chance. As soon as the object touched her palm she felt a strange power surge through her. A scream of pain and terror like she'd never known was ripped from her. In that moment, she was flooded with a terrible sorrow. Nerathiel was just down the hall, _just_ out of reach…and soon would be gone forever. The moment of hopelessness and the agony of defeat nearly ended her right there. There was a flash and then darkness. When she opened her eyes a moment later it was dark and cold. The air was saturated with magic, crackling around her. She glanced up through the murky dark and saw a figure standing at the top of a hill, beckoning to her.

The fear hit her stomach so hard she could have sworn she'd been punched. Creatures crawled out of every corner of the dark, chittering and hissing as they tried to catch her. Rialla ran, panting hard and struggling to find her way in the murky darkness. She looked up, the woman was _right_ there. She slipped as she stretched her arm out to reach for the hand held out to her. In another flash of green, painful, light she collided with stone. Voices shouted something she couldn't quite make out as several hands lifted her and she fell into darkness.


	2. Finding the Breach

**A/N: Obviously I don't own any of this except the characters names**

 **OoOoOoO**

"Ser, she's awake." A gruff voice called to Cassandra. With a curt nod, she followed the soldier to where they were holding ' _her_ '. If she was honest, she wanted to take the woman's head from her shoulders the instant she saw her. Cassandra irritably rubbed her hands over her face, trying to regain her composure. It wouldn't do any good to beat the damn woman back into unconsciousness, though Leliana would have tried to stop her. Solas had strong feelings that this woman was important to their cause…somehow. _'Damn elf'_ she growled to herself, her fury no less than it was a few days ago when the sky tore open and destroyed the Temple of Sacred Ashes…and the only thread of hope left to a devastated Thedas.

As Rialla opened her eyes she saw soldiers with blades pointed at her throat. She jumped only to be stopped by heavy chains around her wrists that were bolted to the cold ground. The door swung open and two women entered, moving quickly toward her.

"Tell me why we shouldn't kill you?" A woman in heavy leather armor glared down at her. Her accented voice full of a bitter rage. "The Temple is destroyed, the conclave failed, and everyone…" She drew in a breath. "Even the Divine, is dead. Except _you_."

Cassandra wanted to punch her, tear into her like a wild beast. She just knew this woman before her was responsible for the death of the Divine. It only served to anger her more seeing the woman feign confusion, she even made her eyes water…convenient trick.

"Wh-what? That can't be… _everyone?_ " That meant she'd been right. Something was very wrong with that meeting, all those powerful people and mages in one location. "Nera…" She willed herself to keep breathing, the suffocating sense of loss threatening to drag her back to the void.

Cassandra grabbed her left wrist with bruising intensity. "Explain _**this**_!" She threw the offending appendage back down.

"I-I can't!" She cried out in pain. "What do you mean everyone is dead!? I don't believe you, you're lying!" Rialla felt panic and pain turn to fury. "Let me go, you Shemlen _bitch!_ " She yanked hard against the chains.

Cassandra dove for her, stopped short by the other woman who Rialla had forgotten was there. "No, Cassandra. We need her." Her voice was soft and had an Orlesian lilt. "Do you remember what happened?"

Rialla thought hard, the last thing she could honestly remember was the darkness, the creatures chasing her, and the woman.

"A woman?" The shrouded woman repeated with a note of surprise. In turn, it seemed to calm the short haired warrior.

"Go to the forward camp, Leliana. I will take her to see _it_." Leliana eyed Cassandra warily. "I hope Solas is right." She muttered before turning to the prisoner. As she began to unlock her bindings she glanced at her. Rialla could clearly see she hadn't been sleeping. There was a darkness in her eyes, something that told her this Divine was more than just a symbol to her. "What is your name?"

Rialla rubbed her head gingerly, accepting the hand offered to help her stand. "Rialla." She muttered, her anger quickly falling away. "What _did_ happen?" Her voice cracked, she wasn't sure she wanted to know.

"It would be easier to show you." Cassandra led her out of the make shift prison cell. Cassandra droned on about the Conclave and Divine, she had pointed out that the people had decided Rialla had created the cataclysm. Something about needing someone to point a finger at. In the sky was a green fissure, impossibly large. Large boulders and chunks of the Temple itself were floating hundreds of feet in the air.

"Fenedhis…" Rialla muttered, eyes wide with fear at the sight. Cassandra cast her a curious glance, noting that was the second time she'd spoken Dalish. She wore the armor of a Dalish hunter, everything about her screamed elf…except her very human body. Cassandra was about to ask her about it when she noticed a tear streak down her cheek.

"We call it the breach." Cassandra stated somewhat sadly. "Come, I will take you to the forward camp." They walked through a massive doorway, the wood groaning with effort to open. They had only made it a short distance when a crack of thunderous green light tore through the sky and sparked the mark on Rialla's hand to life, dropping her to the ground with an agonizing cry. "The breach is growing and every time it does that mark on your hand spreads." She helped the woman up, finally unshackling her hands. "And it _is_ killing you." Her voice was softer, verging on apologetic. "I…we need to know if you can really help fix it. We desperately need answers and you seem to be the only clue."

Rialla stood stock still, quietly appraising the gaping hole in the sky. She thought of Nerathiel's pretty face, the excitement she'd had to see the human woman who could bring all the other people of Thedas together. "She was so eager to see what the Divine looked like, to see this human woman in action." Her voice sounded far away, even to her. "I told her we shouldn't go…" A small sob escaped her.

Cassandra felt her stomach drop and doubt set in. Perhaps this woman wasn't the cause after all. Rialla gave her a sad smile before she continued. "I don't know how I can help but I will try. If for nothing else then to avenge my sister's death."

"You're sister?" Cassandra continued down the path. "Was she an elf?" Rialla nodded but said nothing more. "Very well, the camp is this way."

They came to a large stone bridge. They were almost across when a sudden explosion rocked the ground beneath her feet. A large stone, hurtling through the sky like a falling star engulfed in green flame shattered the bridge, the few soldiers on the other side dead in the blink of an eye. Rialla stood slowly, her whole body aching.

"Stay behind me!" Cassandra shouted, her voice lost in the bellows of something inhuman. As she glanced up she saw the reason. A demon had crawled up from the ground, seemingly out of nowhere, and rushed toward the other woman. She scrambled to her feet, a roiling puddle of green smoke and energy appearing at her feet. A mangled limb shot out of the mess, a sudden stench making her gag. Another limb followed and pulled the rest of the creature up to the surface. Her stomach dropped in utter horror as the oozing, undulating beast opened its jaws and screamed at her. There was only blackness in its gaping maw, no teeth just a swirling darkness that dripped from its jaw like so much blood.

Without thinking she grabbed for the nearest thing to fight, a pair of daggers sheathed in a ruined leather holster. She lunged, wildly, striking at every piece of the thing she could. It wailed, the sound reverberating through her entire being. She dove out of the way of one massive claw like hand, slicing behind her and severing the limb from its host. It fell to the ground and dissipated into a small cloud of noxious fumes. Suddenly Cassandra was beside her, bashing the creature in the face with her shield. Rialla used the creatures confusion to get behind it, sinking the blades into the back of what appeared to be the head. Thick black ooze coated her hands and the daggers as it sank to the ground and seemingly melted into the snow and dirt.

Cassandra brought her blade around in a threatening stance, pointed right at Rialla's throat. "Drop. Your. Weapon." She demanded aggressively.

Rialla was shocked but obeyed. "Alright…alright." She muttered, her entire body trembling.

"Wait." Cassandra breathed out a relieved sigh. "I can't protect you, I shouldn't inhibit your ability to defend yourself." She sheathed her sword and swung the shield around to her back. "I should remember I didn't force you to do this."

Confused, Rialla held the daggers for a moment as though she would just drop them and walk away. "So…?" Cassandra nodded. She slid the blades into the empty sheaths at her hips. Her fingers were sticky with the creatures blood…or whatever it was. "What was that?"

"A shade, a demon from the fade. You fought well." She remarked offhandedly. "We really should hurry, the others are waiting."

They moved at a brisk pace, half jogging toward their destination. "You can hear the fighting! We're close!" She shouted over her shoulder.

" _Whose_ fighting?" Rialla hadn't seen anyone alive since the soldiers at the bridge had died. The noises coming from ahead told her that someone, or something, was still putting up a struggle. As they crested a small hill she saw them. Soldiers, a mage, and a dwarf fighting of a small hoard of the creatures she and Cassandra had just killed. "Creators…" She breathed, her stomach twisting.

Instinct took over and she launched at the nearest one, slashing and stabbing at it until it fell. Moving on to the next, cringing as more of the black blood coated her hands and feet. She heard a loud _thunk_ and whirled around to see one just behind her, a bolt sticking through what might have been a face. It slumped over with a gut-wrenching cry.

Before she could respond, an elven man grabbed her by the wrist. "Quickly! Before more come through!" He thrust her hand, palm up, toward a roaring hole just before them.

Something stirred within her and a bolt of green energy shot from her hand, sealing the smaller breach.

"How did you…?" Rialla's eyes shot between her hand and the elf still holding her wrist.

He chuckled, releasing her gently. " _I_ did nothing, the credit is yours." He backed up a step, giving her space.

Rialla eyed her hand, a sad smile playing at the corners of her mouth. "So this isn't all for nothing, then?"

"Indeed, it seems that whatever magic tore that hole in the sky also placed that mark upon your hand. It seems you hold the key to our salvation after all." Solas smiled, she assumed to be polite, but the reality that _she_ had the only means to stop the influx of demons and destruction did little to ease her growing suffering.

Cassandra moved to stand by her, examining her hand carefully. "And?"

"No, as I said before, your prisoner is no mage…though truth be told, I'd find it difficult to believe any mage could possess that much power."

"Rialla. My name is Rialla." She absently rubbed her glowing palm. The dwarf came to stand beside her, checking his weapon before holstering it on his back. "Thank you for your help…?" She trailed off, waiting for him to introduce himself.

"Varric Tethras at your service. Rogue, story teller, and sometimes unwanted tag-along." He winked at Cassandra who made a disgusted noise before rolling her eyes.

"That's a remarkable weapon, I've never seen its like." Rialla eyed the massive crossbow at his back.

"Yeah," Varric drawled, giving the bow an affectionate smile. "Bianca here is unique. We've been through a hell of a lot together, and she'll be great company in the valley."

"NO! Varric, absolutely NOT!" Cassandra growled out, frustrated with the dwarf.

"Have you _seen_ the valley lately, Seeker? Your men are no longer in control." His mouth twitched in irritation. "Honestly, I'm stuck with you as much as you are with me. We go together peacefully or forcefully, you choose." He moved past them to stand on the other side of Solas.

"And I am Solas, if introductions are to be had. I am pleased you have survived your ordeal thus far." He inclined his head toward Rialla.

"He saved your life, kid. Speak plain, chuckles." Varric gave the elf a good natured nudge.

"Ma seranas, Solas. I am in your debt." Rialla smiled sweetly at him.

Solas' eyes sparked with sudden fascination and the look was gone as quickly as it had appeared.

"Come, we must go find Leliana at the forward camp." Cassandra rolled her neck, grimacing at the cracking sound it made before moving on down the path.

Varric made idle chit-chat with Rialla as they went, she told him of her clan and her reasons for being at the conclave. The Dalish were hopeful that peace talks would pave the way for peace for them. It was clear now that peace was no longer on the agenda. He expressed true sympathy for the loss of her sister, vowing to write a story about the little elf. Solas, for his part, simply listened. Taking in all the new information about the woman he could, giving an interested 'hm' here and there when she spoke of her Dalish mother, Keeper Shia'sal.

As they neared the gates to the forward camp there was a dull buzzing in the air. Rialla could hear the sounds of fighting and men screaming as they were torn apart by more of the horrifying creatures falling from the holes in the sky.

Varric was fast and deadly with his bow, taking down two of the demons before they could finish a soldier who'd lost his footing. Rialla leapt onto the back of the third, sinking her blades deep into the creatures back as Solas froze the thing in place. Cassandra decapitated the creature with a savage grunt.

Remembering what Solas had done before, Rialla stretched her hand up to the bleeding hole and was surprised when the mark activated more quickly to seal it.

"You seem to be getting the hang of this, dal'en." Solas assured her.

Rialla gave a smile that looked more like a grimace as someone shouted to open the gates. The massive, heavy doors creaked and groaned loudly as they moved aside to let the group pass.

After a brief battle of wills with Chancellor Roderick and a quick discussion of how to proceed, Rialla found herself leading the group up to the temple along a narrow pass. They ran into several more shades and some ethereal, shapeless spirits along the way and were able to dispatch them with ever increasing ease. It kept Rialla focused, she concentrated on the monsters before her and was able to, for now, ignore the gnawing terror building within her.

That changed when they finally reached the Temple itself. Or what was left of it. The carcass of the building lay bare, walls crumbled and massive spears of red lyrium reaching for the sky. She sucked in a breath as they passed the empty remains of armor a Templar knight had been wearing, the pieces still smoldering. As she rounded a corner of brick and stone still standing she came face to face with the first of many corpses. The skin and most of the muscle had been ripped clean off of it, leaving a skeletal figure trying to hide behind its hands standing in abject horror. She could smell the burning flesh, see the congealed blood and gore dripping from the petrified bones.

Rialla spun around, heaving all she had in her stomach and falling to her knees. A gentle hand clasped her shoulder. "I am so sorry…I should have warned you." Cassandra spoke softly. With all the fighting she'd simply forgotten to warn the woman about the state of the Temple.

"That could be Nerathiel." Rialla couldn't seem to make herself turn around, willing the grotesque body to vanish.

There was a slight gust of cold air, and looking up she saw Solas lowering his staff. "We should move on." He intoned gently. Rialla mustered her courage and turned. The body was no longer there, but a small puddle of steam rose from the ground where it once stood. She cast a silent nod of thanks to the elf before pulling herself to her feet with Cassandra's help.

As they neared the breach itself she heard _that_ voice. Dark, full of malice and evil, calling for the 'sacrifice' to be brought forth. She heard a woman with an Orlesian accent calling for help…and heard herself respond.

"What..what is that?" Rialla covered her ears instinctively, as if she could shield them from the creatures gravelly voice.

"This is the site of the explosion, a tremendous amount of magic was brought forth. It is common for the memories of a place to bleed through." He explained.

Cassandra stood, mouth agape. "That was _you_! Most Holy called out to you!"

Rialla looked between her and the massive tear. There was a dull roar coming from it, like a thousand beasts calling out at once. Rialla figured that might not be far from the truth, all the souls lost to demons could come pouring through this rift at any moment, perhaps she could hear their cries of anguish and torment.

Leliana and her men had taken up positions around them on the upper level. Solas approached Rialla slowly, reaching out for her hand. "Just as before, you will need to open this one and then close it properly." Rialla nodded, more in acknowledgement of the words than any actual understanding.

She stretched her hand out toward the hole and watched as the magic reacted. She screamed as a massive, hulking beast fell from the hole. Half a dozen eyes or more dotted its face, its entire body appeared to be made of sharp spikes and jagged points. It looked right at her and she could swear it could see through her, and then it laughed and she was amazed that she hadn't soiled herself. Immediately Cassandra dove out toward the thing with a dozen men, slicing and dancing away from its feet, avoiding the deadly pulses of electricity it shot toward them.

Rialla didn't move at first, seeing the thing tear a man in half with its claws and watching as entrails and blood splattered across its angry maw and the men fighting below. It reached for her, laughing all the while. She glared and bolted, running up the things arm and planting one of her daggers in an eye. She fell to the ground, a vindictive smile spreading across her face as it screeched and wailed in pain.

"We will take care of the demon; you must close that breach!" Solas shouted as he sent another blast of flames to distract the monster. With her hand outstretched once more, Rialla willed the magic to close the hole. The bolt of energy shot out, making the rift quiver and shake, losing its form. A blast of energy sent her back a few feet and the demon roared in unfettered fury, charging after her. The hole was still there. She brought her hand up again, refusing to move out of the things path. She could feel the ground shaking, her palm burned, and sweat poured down her face. There was another massive explosion followed by blissful darkness.


	3. Joining Up

**A/N: It's boring, I hate boring. I wish I could skip all this and go to the good stuff but then it isn't a story, it's just the good stuff. Like eating just the inside of an oreo, which is completely fine in my book. Either way, I'm hoping the next chapter will have a little more excitement. (Everyone should know I don't own any of this by now.) OH! And my Dalish needs work. I know. Hard to find all the words I want to use.**

 **OoOoOoO**

' _We will be together forever, won't we?' Nerathiel sat twirling a small white flower between her fingers, not looking at Rialla. There was an edge of worry in her voice._

' _Of course, lethallan!' Rialla swatted the flower out of her hand. 'You'll never be rid of me!'_

 _Nerathiel laughed and playfully slapped her sisters hand. 'What about what Mamae said?'_

 _Rialla frowned. Shia'sal had told her that one day she may want to leave, to be among her own people. As much as she struggled with the notion of who, exactly, her people were, she struggled more with the thought of being pushed out of the clan. This was her home; these were her people…weren't they? 'I don't want to leave; I was angry with her. I just wanted to see the Templar Knights. But…' She sighed heavily, remembering how magnificent they looked in their armor. 'Mamae is right, I shouldn't have strayed so far from the clan. I could have gotten one of the scouts hurt.' Shia'sal had been so angry she nearly threw her out on the spot._

 _The forest was quiet; a few birds sang in the distance and bees lazily floated from one flower to another. The air was crisp, too crisp for spring time. Rialla glanced skyward and saw snowflakes falling. A sudden and fierce pain in her palm startled her, as did the crackling green magic._

' _Nera!' She shouted, spinning around to her sister._

' _Hush, lethallan…I know.' Her face was faded, as though she was a distant memory. Her green eyes seemed grey, skin pale. 'Ar lath ma, vhenan. Dirath shiral, sister.' Nera leaned forward, kissing her forehead._

"NO!" Rialla sat bolt upright, sweat pouring down her face. "No…" She whispered, trying to hold back a sob and failing. She curled into a ball, pulling her knees to her chest as she wept. She hadn't noticed the young elf walk in, didn't hear the gasp of shock or her dropping a box of herbs. It wasn't until she started to clean up her mess, muttering to herself that Rialla saw her. She jumped, wiping her face to hide her shame. "I'm sorry, I didn't hear you." She admitted.

"I didn't mean to disturb you, milady!" The elven girl half shouted, shocked and embarrassed, throwing herself to her knees before Rialla. "They are saying you are the Herald of Andraste, that you stopped the breach from growing and saved us." The girl looked like a frightened halla.

Rialla took a deep breath. "Relax, please da'len." Rialla reached out a hand in an effort to placate her. "Andraste? Really?" She spoke more to herself than the elf. "By the Dread Wolf, if that isn't the most ridiculous thing I've heard yet." She grumbled, rubbing her temples.

"Lady Cassandra will want to see you, right away." She made a quick dash for the door. "She said 'right away'!" And then the little elf was gone.

Rialla fell back against the bed, trying to make sense of her dream and reality. _'Can't even be sure which is which, now, can I? Herald of Andraste…'_ She groaned and stretched, deciding to go and see what Cassandra needed of her now. As she stood she began to realize she was back in the little hamlet she'd been held captive in. Different lodgings, but same area. The cottage was warm, a fire burning steadily in a hearth near the bed. The bed itself was rather uncomfortable, too soft and full of feathers. The blankets were nice and heavy, good for cold weather. There was a basin and pitcher of water beside her on a small table, beside that were some notes. A healer had apparently been logging her progress and no longer needed his scribblings. She glanced them over, unimpressed, and stood slowly. Her body screamed at her to sit down, her head was throbbing and it made her a little dizzy.

As she pulled the door open, sunlight lanced through her eyes and blinded her for a moment. As her vision cleared she saw the people of Haven lined up on either side of the path from her little hovel up toward the Chantry building. Some murmured about her being 'half-elf' and others that she should be in irons, and others still whispered 'herald' with a strange sort of reverence. She wanted to scream at them, tell them there was no way a Dalish woman could be a Shemlen hero, she wanted them to return her sister to her, send her back to her clan. More than anything, she wanted to wake up from this nightmare.

She followed the path until she reached the large doors of the chantry, a soldier standing just outside the door nodded to her as he opened it. She smiled politely and made her way inside. It was surprisingly empty, no pews were set up and candles burned in every corner. There were bags and boxes full of supplies, an occasional chantry book opened to a different page of the Chant of Light. She glanced over a few of them, wondering if there was some truth out there to the whole Andrastian faith. _What if she was real?_

At the other side of the chapel was a large wooden door, behind it were raised voices. One she could clearly recognize was the charming chancellor. Over him, she could hear Cassandra, and for reasons as yet unknown to her it made her smile. She cautiously opened the door and was greeted with the chancellor shouting at the Templar Knights to chain her up and Cassandra shouting back to leave. With a quick glance at one another, the two heavily armed men turned on their heel and left.

Rialla listened quietly while Cassandra verbally sparred with the ill-equipped chancellor. She shot down every one of his arguments, Leliana even insinuating that _he_ was a suspect.

"But not _her_ , of course. Cassandra, you walk a fine line between duty and madness! I cannot see this pass!" He slammed his fist down on the wooden table.

"Then you may leave, _chancellor_. It is apparent your services are no longer needed here." Her voice was low and deadly. It was becoming clearer with every passing moment she spent near the warrior that Cassandra was certainly not a woman one challenged. She brought out a rather large tome and slammed it down in front of the man. "You know what this is? It is a writ from the Divine herself, authorizing the rebuilding of the Inquisition of old. Now you can stay and help or leave, I will _**not**_ tolerate any insubordination!" The chancellor turned scarlet, making a loud gasping noise of disapproval.

"You will damn us all with your pride!" He screamed at her before charging out of the room.

Cassandra breathed a sigh of relief as Leliana placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "I hope that damnable man is wrong."

"We must find who murdered the Divine, it will lead us to the one who tore open the sky." Her voice was soft, soothing.

"Excuse me, but what in the world is going on here?" Rialla spoke up finally. "The Inquisition? You mean to build an army, to find the thing that started this?"

Cassandra nodded, walking around the table toward Rialla. "We do, and to do this we will need your help. I can't force you to, so I'm begging. Will you stay and fight for Thedas? For your sister?"

Rialla sucked in a breath and thought of Nerathiel spinning little bits of magic into flower to make them glow and lacing them into a little circlet for her. The loss of her other half had been devastating but it only served to bolster her resolve. "Yes." She lifted her gaze to Cassandra as she took her arm.

"Welcome to the Inquisition." Cassandra said with the smallest flicker of hope.

As she shook Cassandra's hand the door to the room once again flew open. A large man in heavy armor entered, followed by a petite woman wearing something entirely too fancy for a war room in a hillside village. It was _gold_. Rialla fought the urge to laugh at the absurdity of the situation, which was easier when Cassandra sent her a disapproving glare.

"I would like to introduce you to Commander Cullen, the leader of our forces." She motioned to the mountain of a man before her. His hair was slightly mused, armor caked in mud from the recent march, but he smiled graciously all the same. "And this is Lady Josephine Montilyet, our Ambassador."

Rialla studied them carefully for a moment. "It's nice to meet you." Her voice barely above a whisper. "What do we do now? I can't close that breach as it is…I can't even reach it." She eyed her palm, glowing faintly in the candle light.

"Which is _why_ I suggested going to the mages for support." Leliana pointed to the map.

Cullen shook his head. "I disagree, I truly believe we can reach the Templars if we have the right approach. Maybe it's the former Templar in me, but using mages seems too risky."

"How so? Afraid they'll loose abominations on the men, turn to blood magic? You forget, Commander, the Warden was a mage and so was Hawke. I know you have your doubts, but this _is_ the best course of action." Leliana sounded reasonable, her tone was light, but her eyes were cold and calculating. Anticipating his next move.

"A single mage, if left unchecked, could doom the entire Inquisition! My past should be warning enough, Leliana! I don't disagree with you out of spite or hatred of mage kind, it is from _experience_." He glared at her.

"Enough, both of you!" Cassandra raised her hand, trying to calm the Commander.

He waved her off, nodding and rubbing the back of his neck irritably. "Apologies, Leliana."

"None needed, Cullen." She inclined her head in a short bow with a smile. _'Of course not, she won.'_ Rialla thought, watching the two as they backed down into their respective corners.

"Rialla, what do you think?" Cassandra startled her and she jumped.

"Abelas?! Why me?" Rialla took a step away from the table. "I'm just the one with the glowing hand." She held it up and pointed at it.

"True enough, but this is to help you close the breach. You should have as much say as any of us." Cassandra nodded toward the table. "We are in this together, aren't we?"

"I say the mages. I understand the Commanders worry, and while I also agree with him, I fear the Templar might be too dangerous to approach." Cullen pointed at Rialla accusingly while glaring at Leliana, an mouthing an angry 'I told you so.' "I also think it would be foolish not to intervene with the mages now. That's a lot of powerful people in one city."

Cullen's head whipped around suddenly. "Wait a minute, did you say 'abelas'?" Cassandra chuckled and shook her head.

"Stay focused." She chided with a smirk. "You can never stay focused…" She mumbled.

"I am!" He shot back.

"I did. I am…I was raised Dalish. Uh, well sorry, I forget now and then." Rialla grinned sheepishly. "Mama-er, mother would prefer I not speak our native tongue in the presence of Shem-humans. She worried it may do more harm to me than good." She finished with a shrug.

Cullen gave her a lopsided grin. "How odd, a woman raised by elves."

"And we've deviated from our topic… _again_." Josephine finally spoke up. "I will try to reach the mages in Redcliffe but that could take some time."

"Go to the Hinterlands, find Mother Giselle. She's been asking to meet the 'Herald' of Andraste in person." Rialla scoffed at the title, but Leliana either didn't notice or didn't care and continued on. "She could be an invaluable agent to the Inquisition. Go and meet with her."

Cassandra nodded. "I'll go with Rialla. We can take Varric and Solas as well."

"Excellent, I've my own duties to attend and shall wait for news." The Commander gave Cassandra a curt bow and followed Josephine and Leliana out of the room.

Rialla waited until they'd finally walked out before turning to Cassandra. "Do you think it odd that someone who lacks your same faith could be considered a Herald of Andraste?"

The question was innocent enough and gave Cassandra pause. "I suppose it does." She nodded, motioning for her to leave. "But isn't that the very nature of faith? You believe in the Creators and Elven Gods." Rialla nodded. "I trust that my faith will be rewarded, whether through what I know to be true or what you do. I cannot discount that you were in the fade with the spirits, and despite your reticence to accept Andraste, she may have chosen _you_."

Rialla smiled at the thought. "To be chosen." She said thoughtfully. "I guess that makes as much sense as anything else." She followed her down to where Varric was sitting by a fire tending to his crossbow. "If you've time, if you don't mind, I would be interested in learning more about the Chant of Light."

Cassandra stopped short, mouth open to call to Varric, whose head jerked up at the last comment, a slow smile spreading across his features. "Well, I never thought I'd see anyone render the Seeker speechless." He chuckled.

Cassandra had the grace to blush, frowning good naturedly at the dwarf. "I wouldn't mind at all." Though she wouldn't admit it aloud, she felt a sense of pride at being asked. Perhaps Andraste did chose this woman, maybe it was possible that the Maker hadn't _completely_ turned from his creations.

 **OoOoOoO**

Meeting Mother Giselle had been interesting. She hadn't questioned Rialla's lineage, her penchant for Dalish beliefs, or her questioning of Andrastian lore. Giselle sought to accept, if not outright encourage, a difference of opinion.

"Think for yourself, Herald. What does your heart tell you? Are you chosen or is this mere coincidence? Is there a difference?" Rialla wanted to stay and continue the discussion but the timing was all wrong. The Mother was tending to wounded, having mages that could and would assist the more severely wounded. There were elves among them, some Dalish and some not. She showed a reverence Rialla had not seen before in a human toward her…well they weren't exactly her kind, were they?

She had followed Cassandra and Varric, listening idly to their banter as they followed the road to Master Dennet's farm. There had been two rifts, easy enough to close, and more than a few skirmishes between Templar and mages. After clearing the small village in the Hinterlands, these minor groups were easily dealt with. Solas expressed, more than a few times, his sorrow at seeing those with power killing those without. They had come across several examples of Templar hatred and fear toward mages. A house burning, door barred from the outside…bodies of mages burned within. An elven man killed by mistake, his ring taken. Seeing the outright persecution of the mages began to taint her view of the once proud warriors. The Templars she'd read about were honorable, serving for noble purpose. The sought to protect mages, which was no small task. She had always known that if one could reach into the fade, something else could reach back. Not all possessed the mental fortitude to fight off demons. Dalish were raised with a healthy fear and respect for magic. To ignore the potential for disaster, and what a horrific calamity it could be, was the simplest way to doom a clan…or Circle.

The horse master was a kind, if not somewhat stern, man. He agreed to help if the Inquisition could help him. Two tasks, both relatively simple and straightforward. The wolves would have been easier to deal with if there hadn't been a rift over the river that lead back to their den. Solas had theorized before reaching the rift that it could have been a demon. Seeing the rift and the demons pouring out of it only added to the problem. Once the demon was gone there was a tremendous chorus of howls.

"They seem grateful." Solas remarked simply, the barest hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Then came the watchtowers. Finding the locations marked wasn't as difficult as clearing the area of bandits, deserters, and the odd clash of Templar and Mage. Rialla had already grown sick of the constant fighting, more frustrated by their blind rage than anything. Neither side seemed to even notice there were others involved, driven to insanity and a thirst for the others blood. As far as she was concerned the Dread Wolf could take them all.

Two weeks in the Hinterlands, nine rifts, a show down with the Templars and the Mages camps, and two separate bouts of food poisoning had Rialla desperate for her forest and her home. They sat by a roaring fire that couldn't seem to warm her. Ram cooked slowly over the fire, the smell was both delicious and nauseating, the last time they'd had the meat she'd become ill.

"Different ram, kid. Promise, this one won't make you sick." Varric didn't look up as he spoke.

Rialla chuckled. "How do you do that?"

"I've been with Bianca a long time." He remarked with a subtle grin.

"You're daft. I meant-" Varric laughed, cutting her off.

"I know, I know. Actually, I'm just a pretty decent reader of body language." Cassandra huffed in disgust at this. "The Seeker disagrees." He winked at her, which seemed to irritate her all the more.

"Leave me out of your nonsense, Varric." She grumbled over the top of the report she'd been writing.

"And I thought Curly was stuffy, you may actually be worse." He said in mock surprise. Solas let out a soft laugh at that.

"Careful, now. The Seeker is a woman of action, not to be teased or tested, Varric." Solas sat with legs crossed in a meditative state, eyes closed with a smile gracing his features.

Rialla smiled to herself as she watched the exchange. "You all seem very close for spending such a short amount of time together."

Cassandra stopped writing to look up at her. Her usual stoic mask slipping for a moment as she regarded her companions. She nodded once in agreement before returning to her report. Varric smiled to himself and Solas nodded at her approvingly.

"Right you are, da'len." He returned to his silent meditations as the others continued their own tasks for the moment.

Corporal Vael had sent word ahead of them to update the Commander of the Inquisitions progress in the Hinterlands and to inform him that Horse Master Dennet and a rather large herd of sturdy Ferelden mounts would be heading his way. He'd prepared the stables and a small pasture to accept the herd and a small but livable area for Dennet. He'd met the a few times when in Denerim and found him to be an agreeable sort. He cared more for his horses than he did for most people, regardless of their race.

Cullen himself had never bothered with what was racial stigmas, he saw either a mage or not a mage. Chalk it up to Templar training that took the bigotry out of him. Not to say all Templar saw it the same, but he couldn't be distracted by ear shape and tattoos if he was to fulfill his duty to the best of his ability. Meredith had seen it as weakness, citing that very thing as the reason he had missed Hawke being a mage. The truth of that matter was he had known all along. Hawke was different, and while she broke the occasional law, she stood and fought for the mages _with_ the Templar. She had saved him from a life of fear, regret, and anger. He saved her from a lyrium poisoned, completely homicidal, Meredith. He had admired the Hero of Ferelden, though it had taken him a long time to realize it. Twice, women who were both inexplicably bound to magic had proved him wrong about mages. He had started to question the use of circles and the Right of Tranquility. Not to say he was ever very trustful of mages, but he was open to the idea that there was something fundamentally wrong with the system in place. The fear of a mage often led to the mistreatment of a person.

And while he believed these things, he also harbored an unyielding and almost paralyzing fear of all magic. He had seen it at its worst. Now, here at the end of all things, he was once again going to face his darkest fears. Part of him hated Cassandra for this.

The sound of horns blaring at the gates signified the parties return. He left the war room and made his way to greet them and discuss Cassandra's latest report. He shook off his worries and put them carefully behind him. He could not afford to show weakness now; they'd only just begun.

Rialla followed Varric in silence, her feet aching and her back sore. Her blades were in dire need of a whet stone and she of a bath. She vaguely made out the sound of the Commander calling Cassandra over, a tight smile on his face. He looked tired, though she could safely assume that no one was getting very much sleep these days. Creators knew she wasn't. Every night was a new nightmare and for the last few weeks the nightmare had been a waking dream. She was officially sick of talking to anyone she didn't already know.

"Drink?" Varric posed the question without much elaboration. He nodded his head toward the make-shift tavern as a way to explain his question.

"I smell like a weak dead goat, but yes. Drink." She glanced back at Solas. "Do you drink, falon?" Solas shook his head in the negative as he walked past them.

"You're missing out, chuckles." Varric elbowed him as he attempted to walk by.

"No, child of the stone, I don't think so." He glanced at the tavern itself. It was much nicer than others he'd seen but the taste of their wine and ale disgusted him. It all tasted of dirt.

Rialla laughed lightly. "You have far too sensitive a palate." Solas smiled politely and took his leave. Rialla followed Varric to the tavern and Flissa sat down two flagons of ale.

"So, haven't had a chance to check on you. How are you doing?" Varric asked over the brim of his drink.

Rialla took a sip, wincing at the acrid taste, and took another larger drink before answering. "I feel…empty. My sister dying, not being able to return to my people…not knowing if I should, even. And, what's worse, is being dubbed a herald to a faith I know nothing about!" She sniffed her drink before taking a decent swallow. "Otherwise, I'm fine."

Varric chuckled at her. "I can understand that. Dwarves are similar in that aspect, we don't speak to our cave dwelling, surface fearing brethren, and they speak even less to us." He turned the mug absently in his hands. "When Bartrand died it felt like I'd lost more than a brother, he was my only connection to the part of my life I didn't hate. You feel invincible when you have the right people, and he was that."

"I'm sorry for your loss." Rialla whispered.

Varric waved her off. "Don't be, he was a bastard." He chuckled. "He'd never want to hear me refer to him as anything else. I'm just saying, I'm here if you want to talk. Or drink, I'm versatile." He winked, his grin as smug as he could muster.

They talked for a few hours. He shared a majority of his time with Hawke and she told him of her life with the Dalish. He listened and answered as many questions as he asked.

"So, Herald, are you really going to bulk up on Andrastian knowledge?" He smirked at her wrinkled nose and huff of indignation at the title.

"I suppose I should. The Creators are elven Gods, and I've always known I'm not elven…but I liked the idea of them. Maybe I'll like this one, too. Who knows?" Varric waved Flissa over for their fifth round. "Once you get beyond the horrid flavor, this isn't half bad."

Varric snorted at her. "I agree, Rialla."

Rialla and Varric finished another drink in comfortable silence before she finally grew too nauseous from her own stench and decided to find a place to bathe. He wished her well and stayed for a while longer. There was something in him, a sort of hidden misery behind his smile that made her feel incredibly cold. She had never known what it was to lose someone until now. He had known it for far longer and to an extent she hoped she never would.

The soldiers pointed her to a make-shift bathhouse. She resisted the urge to sprint for it, wishing not to make more of a spectacle of herself than she was and had already. Unfortunately for her it wasn't empty, but she could hardly care less. There was soap and a few dry lengths of cloth which she helped herself to before finding a suitable wooden tub and heating water.

The screen around the other occupant had armor and a cloak draped over it. On a wooden stool beside it were neatly folded clothes. _'That must be the Commander.'_ She idly twirled a strand of dirt coated hair between her fingers, gasping in shock when she saw her nails.

The noise startled the man, who had possibly fallen asleep. "Maker's breath, is someone there?" She heard him curse as water splashed from the tub.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to startle you." She winced at his agitated tone.

He let out a sigh. "Are you alright?" He relaxed a bit, continuing the awkward conversation.

She laughed. "Yes, just covered in a shocking amount of dirt and…Creators only know what else." She pulled a muddy leaf from her hair and tossed it aside. _'Why didn't Varric mention I looked like a muddy beast?'_ She huffed irritably. A spider slipped out from her cuff, running down across her hand and leaping toward freedom, she shook her gauntlet off and danced around the tub for a split second before catching her breath. She checked the water boiling and began pouring it into the tub along with some cooler water to even the temperature out.

She heard him chuckle. "I would expect that a Dalish hunter is not unaccustomed to a little _dirt_ , milady." She smiled at his gentle teasing.

"A little? Had you seen me you would know just how _little_ I've got on me. I'm surprised I left anything in the Hinterlands!" She said with a laugh as she began stripping off her leathers. "I absolutely cannot wait for this bath."

She heard him stand, water sloshing onto the ground and in the tub. "Well enjoy, I'll take my leave and you may have the room to yourself." He dried himself and dressed quickly, and to her surprise quietly. No clanging of metal or even the sound of buckles. She'd been in the water as he left and couldn't see if he'd actually put the armor on. She mumbled her thanks as he left.

She sank into the warm water, dipping her head below to rinse her hair. It was utterly soothing, melting away the weeks of hiking and camping, and all the _talking_. She scrubbed her body and hair, eager to be clean again. She had bruises and cuts covering her body.

That night she dreamt of Shia'sal and her endless frustration at Rialla's uncanny ability to thoroughly coat herself in dirt. She always called her len'alas, and she was a very dirty child. Nerathiel was pristine, dirt refused to adhere itself to her skin or even her clothing. It was the true proof that one of them was true Dalish and one was Dalish at heart.

She awoke to a knock on her door. She fumbled with the blankets and scrambled up off the floor. She lifted the latch and opened the door. To her surprise, the Commander stood before her.

"By the Dread Wolf!" She slammed the door in his face. "I'm sorry, let me get dressed!" She shouted through the door. She could hear him laughing to himself outside.

"Take your time, milady. I simply came to inform you that Cassandra would like you to join us in the war room." She didn't have a chance to respond before she heard him marching off toward the Chantry.

She managed to dress quickly. The Quartermaster had been able to procure some simple breeches and tunics for her to wear when not in her armor. They were deer skin, soft and warm. If she could get away with it she'd never take them off.

Rialla jogged up to the Chantry, Mother Giselle greeting her as she entered. They spoke briefly, exchanging pleasantries and Rialla inquired about the state of the people. Mother Giselle smiled broadly, telling her that her efforts had endeared her to the people. With a smile and a curt nod, Rialla quickly made her way to the door of the war room. She opened the door with a bit of apprehension.

"Ah, thank you for joining us." Cassandra stood suddenly, and to Rialla it looked as though they'd been sitting waiting for her the entire time. "I wanted to wait for you to arrive so we could discuss our next move."

At Rialla's puzzled look, Cullen continued. "They are hoping you will go to Orlais and speak with the Chantry Mothers who remain." He glared at Cassandra. "Which is foolish."

"Why?" Rialla asked before she could stop herself.

"Orlais is full of dangers, milady, not the least of which being assassins." Leliana helpfully answered. Rialla was grateful for the redheads' patients with her.

"I agree, this is far too risky and she is the _only_ one we know of who could seal the breach. We shouldn't be risking her life so frivolously." Josephine ended her tirade with a frustrated huff.

"I will go with her." Cassandra, ever the stalwart warrior.

"Do I get a say in this?!" Rialla felt panicked, she'd never been to Orlais, she'd never really been to anything bigger than Haven. The thought of all those people was unnerving. Her mannerisms were only gradually started to break away from what she'd been taught.

Cassandra frowned at the table. "I…I apologize, Rialla."

"No, I should apologize. I continue to treat you as a tool." Leliana ran a hand through her hair in frustration. "It would be advisable that you, with the mark and the people believing you to be the Herald of Andraste, go and speak to the remaining members of the Chantry. You need to be seen standing behind a belief, even if it isn't this one."

Rialla nodded with a frown, she had no idea how she could pull this off. "I know nothing of Andraste, save what Cassandra has been trying to teach me." She fought against the building sense of panic. "How am I supposed to be something I don't know or believe?!"

The room fell quiet for a moment, everyone seeming to finally understand the dilemma she faced. Leliana was the first to speak. "Cassandra will have time to teach you on your trip to Orlais. It will take a few weeks for you to reach the capital city. In the meantime, Commander Cullen would be an excellent instructor."

"Say what?" He spun around, surprised. "If she is to learn of Andraste at the point of a sword, then yes I agree. But I am no more qualified to educate her on the Chant than Cassandra." He groaned. "I'm sorry, Herald-"

"Rialla." She corrected quickly. "Please don't call me _herald_." She folded her arms defensively.

"Rialla, apologies abound. I'm a terrible teacher. You are free to borrow a book from me, I have several regarding the chant and Andraste." He bowed to her at the hip and turned to leave.

Leliana stood in shock for a moment. "Ok, well thank you Commander." She muttered as the door shut behind him. "He is a Templar and they know the chant better than most ley sisters do."

"I am not going to put him in some awkward 'Come to Andraste' moment." Rialla threw her arms up. "I am not saying I don't believe, it just isn't what I was taught. Well, I did say that but I didn't _mean_ it." She shook her head in frustration. "I'm going for a walk, is there anything else?"

"No, thank you Her-Rialla." Josephine ushered her out of the room with a polite smile.

She could hear the three women bickering about who should help form her knowledge of the Chant and The Maker. Leliana wanted to shape her into the woman the Chantry needed to see, the beacon of their faith that Andraste had been. Cassandra vehemently opposed forcing her into a role that she wasn't ready for, instead saying Rialla should simply be allowed to learn about it at her own pace. Training her to parrot the information would only further instill in the Chantry that the Inquisition was not taking their concerns seriously, that they were being mocked for their faith.

Rialla sighed heavily and walked away from the room. She didn't like the idea of abandoning what she was taught, even if she was taught that the elder Gods looked unfavorably on her human ancestors. She admired the inside of the Chantry, the simple structure and sparse decor. She tried to imagine a woman leading the free people across Thedas, fighting the Imperium in all its glory. She stood before a simple statue of Andraste.

"What a sight she must have been." Rialla whispered to herself, carefully tracing the lines of the statue.

"I often wonder if she wanted her role, if she was willing to throw a simple life away for all of us." Rialla turned to the voice. Cullen stood a short distance behind her. "I wanted to apologize, I have no qualms with you learning whatever you desire." He cleared his throat and smirked. "I'm a terrible teacher." He admitted with a laugh. "I can focus on drills and paper work, but if I ever had to actually _teach_ someone anything...well, I fear I would only confuse you further."

"I'm already confused so maybe it wouldn't matter." Rialla sighed. "I find all this so strange. I am finding myself more and more comfortable, I miss the clan a little less each day and it frightens me. But, I also know this was to be the natural progression of things. I could not marry into the clan; I could not stay once my sister became keeper. I would have to strike out on my own eventually." She felt her chest tighten, though it was easier to ignore this time. "I'm not completely useless with a sword if training would be easier."

Cullen's eyes shot up to hers and he gave her a grateful smile. "That might help." He chuckled, motioning for her to follow. "One way to find out, I suppose."


	4. Orlais

**A/N: I'm going to be changing a few things, glossing over a few. Still don't own anything :)**

Rialla sat in the Chantry, nestled in a warm alcove with a candelabra full of candles burning beside her. She leafed through a book Mother Giselle had given her. She had spent most of the day reading through the rise and fall of Andraste. Leliana had entered the Chantry in search of the young woman. Rialla didn't hear her approach as she read. Leliana watched as a tear slid down her cheek, falling to the book where others had landed. Rialla sniffed, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand.

"Are you alright?" Leliana asked hesitantly as she approached Rialla.

Rialla slammed the book shut, setting it down and shoving it away from her. "Why would he betray her?" She whispered, voice hoarse, as she fought to hide her tears. "It's strange, really, coming from a completely different belief and culture…and yet I can't help feeling _something_ for this woman. I don't know about the Maker, but I know she was real."

Leliana picked up the book, carefully dusting it off and setting it with a small collection Rialla had amassed over the last two weeks. She smiled at the wooden practice sword lying beside them, inscriptions carved into the blade. "Cullen won't like what you've done to his blade." She smirked.

"He actually did that for me, I rather like that verse." Rialla chuckled to herself, remembering all the times he had told her to go read, study, only to find her outside running through drills with some of the soldiers. He had her recite verses from various canticles when they sparred. She learned quickly to memorize her verses before she went to see him, and to block.

Leliana held the blade fondly, tracing over the etchings. "Blessed are they who stand before the corrupt and the wicked and do not falter. Blessed are the peacekeepers, the champions of the just…" She set the blade back down and turned to Rialla. "I am a little surprised to see it affects you so."

Rialla cast a downward glance, shrugging. "I was drawn by her story; a powerful woman with a strong will and incredible devotion to her people. She loved so selflessly, gave everything to everyone else and took nothing for herself. She was truly inspirational; I can see why the world is drawn to her." Rialla stood slowly, eyeing Leliana closely. "Why do you believe? What tells you that you're right, that there even _is_ a Maker?"

Leliana laughed lightly, smiling. "We _all_ must find our own way, no? My path was hidden from me; I was lost in shadow and doubt." She turned toward the window, a faraway look in her eye. "I don't know if it really was divine providence, but it felt like it to me. In a dream, he spoke to me. I've never felt such love and fear. I had been overcome by my own sorrows and loss, but in that moment I found peace, true peace." Leliana turned to Rialla and smiled. "And a love like I've never known before or since." Leliana shook her head and turned to leave. "You do not have to abandon your own faith; part of believing is trusting. Perhaps, for you, the Maker presents himself through the Dalish and their belief. You must decide, not me or anyone else, _you_." With that she turned and made her way to the war room, leaving Rialla to her thoughts. She had been overwhelmed since this had begun, sorrow and misery ever present companions. It all seemed so unreal, a waking nightmare she couldn't escape. She glanced down at the wooden practice sword and with a heavy sigh took it to go see Cullen for their usual round of sparing. She'd be leaving with Cassandra, Varric, and Solas in the morning for Orlais. She needed to clear her head.

Cullen was standing among a group of recruits, shouting orders at them. As she watched she marveled at his ability to command authority. The soldiers held him in high esteem, followed him without question. He was a force to be reckoned with, standing before the darkness without fear. He turned and caught her eye, gracing her with a gentle smile. She smiled back, nodding in acknowledgement. Being near him felt safe, even with all the world burning around her, she somehow knew he would never leave her to face it alone. She felt the same when she was with Leliana and Cassandra. Despite their differences and the rough start, they'd become close.

He spoke briefly to one of the Templar knights before making his way to her. Her heart skipped an excited beat, nothing got her blood flowing like fighting the Commander of the Inquisition. She felt powerful, unstoppable, when she could out maneuver him. He removed his cloak and the heavy breast plate, placing them on a chest sitting near their make-shift practice ring.

"Are you prepared for Val Royeaux?" He rolled his shoulders, circling her like a lion stalking its prey.

"I guess as much as I can be to meet with the Clerics, we leave in the morning for Orlais." She shivered in the cold, twirling the blade lightly in her hands. He lunged for her keeping the blade tucked until the last possible second, slicing in a short arc and narrowly missing her face. She countered, throwing her shoulder into him as he passed. It was as effective as trying to shove a boulder out of her way and she comically bounced off his shoulder.

"You're too light to take me on physically! You have a weapon for a reason." He grinned, happily in his element. Rialla huffed and took a defensive stance. He came after her, attacking every opening she provided. She spent more time blocking, unable to get a serious counter attack in at all.

"Creators, you're fast!" She gasped as she dove out of his path.

"MAKER!" He rounded on her, catching her off guard and thumping her in the ribs.

She gasped and fell, scrambling to her feet. " _Maker!_ That fucking hurt." She grinned wildly. "Come on, Commander." With a wicked grin he launched himself after her, making a hit anytime she said anything in Dalish, called him 'shem', or cursed the Creators. Several recruits had come to watch them, cheering them on.

He had landed a light tap to the back of her knee and she tumbled to the ground. She whirled around as he closed in. He brought the wooden blade up for a final strike when she wrapped one leg around his and with the other landed a solid kick to his gut and tipped him over backwards. He let out a surprised shout. She used the momentum of him falling to pull herself up, landing squarely on his chest with the wooden blade to his throat. "Victory! Sweet song rising from the lips of the vanquishers." She grinned, feeling quite proud to have leveled Cullen. "I have conquered you." She whispered low enough that only he heard her.

He smirked and flipped her over, turning the blade on her. "Not yet, milady." He held her eyes a moment longer, the thrill of the fight slipping away and he was suddenly aware of how close they were. "But you came close." His voice was slightly hoarse and just above a whisper. He stood, offering her a hand to stand. "Well played, Rialla. You've certainly improved." He rubbed the back of his neck, a nervous habit she found rather cute.

She bowed her head. "Thank you, Commander. I appreciate you taking the time." She panted, red faced and giddy. "That was…fun." Cullen nodded in agreement, setting the blade down and moving to replace his armor.

"Indeed, I've enjoyed our time together." The recruits had returned to their drills, leaving them alone once again. "That was a clever move. I hadn't actually thought you would try and _trip_ me." He gave her an amused huff.

"Well, I can't take you on your feet, but on the ground…" She trailed off with a playful smirk and a shrug.

Cullen gave a short bark of laughter and cleared his throat. "Indeed, Rialla." His voice was deeper than usual, it had a sensuous quality she'd not noticed before. With no small amount of difficulty, she forced herself to say goodbye and return to her cabin to finish packing for Orlais. She'd have plenty of time when she returned to think about the change.

 **OoOoOoO**

Orlais was beautiful. Lavish estates atop hillsides, vineyards as far as the eye could see. The capital city of Val Royeaux was truly magnificent. The gateway to the city was an impressive gate, much to her surprise, and gold. She marveled at the architecture and raw beauty the area possessed. She hardly noticed the woman approaching gasp in shock as she passed.

"Just a guess, but I think they know who we are." Varric noted beside her with a wry chuckle.

She turned to the woman, instantly intrigued by her dress and mask. "Why do they wear masks?" She wondered aloud.

"It's all part of the 'Grand Game'. Never show your true face, keep your emotions, feelings a secret." Cassandra remarked, with no small amount of disdain. "Ridiculous, if you ask me."

"Indeed, it does seem odd that one would resort to wearing a mask to keep their composure." Solas spoke softly. Rialla couldn't help herself, Orlais was quickly becoming a place she wished she'd never have to leave. The mystery and intrigue of the people there was fascinating.

They approached a monument surrounded by Lions, all gold and extravagant. On the other side she noticed a cleric and several chantry sisters speaking to a crowd.

"Do not fear the Inquisition, my children. The Templar have come to protect us from their blaspheming and horror." The woman was old, wearing the robes of a cleric, shouting to the people to refuse the members of the Inquisition. She shouted her down as she approached. "False prophet!" Her voice commanded respect, stopping Rialla in her tracks at the edge of the crowd. "You are too late, we are under the protection of the Templar! Be gone, you who would pervert our faith." The woman all but seethed with barely contained rage and indignation.

"We've come to talk _peacefully_ and this is how you greet us?! With fear and reproach?!" Rialla roared back, furious at the revered mother and her blatant disregard for her faithful. The people of the crowd murmured in fear, agitated. Rialla could just make out the sound of men in full plate walking toward them over the maddening din of the mob. "You've made a terrible mistake." Holding the Revered Mother's gaze, unbending in her convictions, Rialla vibrated with barely contained fury.

" _You_ have no power here, false prophet." The woman hissed,

retreating a few steps as Rialla took one forward. "Look! The Templar Knights have come to force this charlatan from our city, to purge the sanctuary of Val Royeaux." She raised her arms to the heavens and turned her back to the first knight who walked by. He cast her a derisive glare as the man behind him stood directly behind her, pulled back his fist and hit her. The woman collapsed, appearing unconscious for the time being.

"We have come to your _fair_ city…" A wild-eyed man in armor she'd not seen before stood before the crowd now. His very presence made her uneasy, his voice full of malice. "We find Val Royeaux unworthy of our protection!" He declared in a loud voice. With a sneer at the shocked gasps and frightened cries he turned and left, taking his soldiers with him.

"Seeker Lucius, what is the meaning-" He cut Casandra off with a fierce glare.

"You do _NOT_ address me!" His voice rasped. "You start this blaspheming Inquisition, stand beside a _false_ prophet, and demand my attention?! You are no Seeker of Truth! You are a herald of lies!" The man called Lord Seeker Lucius bellowed.

Cassandra stared in silent shock, mouth agape. "Seeker…?" He ignored her, turning his men away.

Rialla stormed toward him. "Templar! You do not have to follow this mad man! Cullen, one of your own, is the Commander of the Inquisition! Join us, _help_ us close the breach!" Several men cast concerned glances her way, muttering to themselves.

"Do not stray from the path of righteousness, brothers. This woman is a false prophet, murderer of the Most Holy. She seeks not justice, she seeks _**power**_!" A strange, pale faced knight called out to the men. They gave Rialla one last wary glance before fallowing their own commander.

"How well do you know that man?" Rialla questioned, glaring as he and his soldiers walked away.

Cassandra looked defeated, head hung in shame as she clenched her fists at her side. "He is Lord Seeker Lucius. Head of my order." She shook her head, as if to shake loose the anger she felt. "I don't understand, he was always a reasonable man. The Seekers would never abandon Orlais, not when they need them most."

"You didn't betray anyone, Seeker. I think there is more to this than we can see." Varric stood with his arms folded, watching Cassandra with an unreadable expression.

Rialla turned, noting the Revered Mother was being helped to a sitting position. She made her way toward her, narrowly dodging an arrow with a note. "What the hell...?!" She started, jumping away. Upon closer inspection, the note was a few words and a drawing.

"What is it?" Solas looked perplexed, examining the scribblings.

"Is that a note?" Cassandra sounded the slightest bit amused by it. "Who is Red Jenny?" She examined the note, Rialla shrugging in response. "Lets' go talk to the Mother first, then we can get to the bottom of this mystery." She tucked the note in her pocket.

"This must please you greatly, Cassandra." The woman sneered.

Rialla pulled Cassandra back before she could get close enough to physically assault her. "Listen, this brings us no joy. We came in the hope of talking peacefully, finding a way to work together to help the faithful who struggle with loss, the breach, and an all out civil war. We aren't here for power, Mother." Rialla clenched her jaw to keep her from saying any more than necessary.

"I do not believe you, you don't even believe you!" She pointed an accussing finger at Rialla. "I know the faithful when I see them, girl!"

The woman started as Rialla's palm connected with her fist. "Pull yourself together, you mad cow!" Rialla glared, her voice even. "I'm not here for power, money, or anything other than answers. _You_ have been ignoring the very people who need you, choosing instead to be beaten down like the dogs you are. You could create sanctuaries, places of refuge, but instead you sit here and frighten them." She waved to the dispersing crowd behind her. "They don't need more fear, they need hope." Rialla spun on her heel and made to leave.

"You are right." The older woman spoke softly, Rialla had to strain to hear her. "This is a dark time for all, the Chantry has fallen short of its purpose."

"It isn't too late, Revered Mother. _We-_ " She motioned to Cassandra, Solas, and Varric. "Are trying to set it right. For us to fulfill our purpose we cannot be blinded by greed or a lust for power. We _will_ find who murdered Most Holy, and we will avenge her death. The Chantry needs to be a haven for all people who suffer, not just the faithful." Rialla offered the older woman a hand to stand. The Revered Mother slowly placed her hand in Rialla's, allowing her to help her to her feet.

"If you truly believe you can do this, then we will pray for you. The Chantry here will become what it was meant to be, and we will turn our attention to the faithful and the lost here." The other women quickly began to usher the Chantry Mother away to rest.

With a small smile, Rialla made her way down toward the dock, where supposedly another clue to this 'Red Jenny' was. Sure enough there was one tucked away beside a net full of dead fish, and a barely legible note stating 'the fish are poisoned'. Cassandra scoffed at the note and its crude drawing before handing it to Rialla.

"Should we even bother with this nonsense?" She wondered aloud.

Rialla chuckled. "C'mon, it's kind of fun." Varric nodded with a smirk.

"I do not think 'fun' is the reason we are here, Rialla." Solas pointed out. Rialla waved him off, leading the way up a spiral staircase to where the next note was. They collected it and followed the clues to the Tavern, finding the note pined to a table full of fat, overdressed, and fairly intoxicated, noblemen. One of whom groped Varric by accident when reaching for Cassandra. He let out a surprised shout and spun around.

"What the hell are you thinking?!" He shouted, more amused than angry.

The man blanched at the angry dwarf, all color evaporating from his face. "I meant to grab..he-her!" He pointed a fat finger at Cassandra.

"YOU WHAT?!" Rialla quickly wrangled Cassandra away, Varric uselessly pushing as he laughed. The more Cassandra fumed, the harder he laughed, until there were tears streaming down his cheeks. "Honestly, Varric, it is _hardly_ humorous." She bit out, fuming.

"Oh…I _beg_ to differ, Seeker." He wiped his eyes, trying to control his breathing. "That's going in the next book I write." Cassandra practically roared in frustration. Solas chuckled at the pair, smiling warmly at them.

"They're rather adorable, don't you think?" Rialla noted the two walking ahead, bickering about whose butt was going to be in what story, Cassandra shouting back that it was 'undignified'.

Solas simply nodded, walking beside Rialla as they made their way toward the entrance to the city. "How did your training go with the Commander?" He asked conversationally.

"I no longer shout in Dalish around him." She noted with a smirk. "Honestly, between Cassandra and him, I feel like I've really started to see why Andraste is so important to humans. It's a lot like the Dalish Creators. She is an important symbol of their past…and mine I guess." She stopped suddenly. "Do you think it's possible to believe in both?"

Solas slowly turned to her, contemplating her question. "That's a good question, and only you can answer that." He gave her a knowing smile. "It is your belief, after all."

Cassandra had managed to figure out the hidden meaning in all the messages, finding the last line 'No breeches' a little odd, but otherwise paying it little attention. "We need to arrive at midnight in that alley." She pointed to the drawing. "Whoever 'Red Jenny' is, they will show themselves then…with…no breeches? Maker, I hope they wear pants." She ran a hand through her hair irritably.

Rialla eyed the letter, along with the beautiful invitation to a party being held the following night. The penmanship was impeccable, the detail impressive, and it smelled faintly of jasmine. Gaudy thing irritated her, who needed to spend that much time proving they had money to throw around?

"Well, maybe we're in the wrong alley?" Varric attempted to look at the sketch.

"It's two fucking squares and three lines, it's a horrific example of an alley!" Cassandra bit back in a tone so harsh even Varric flinched. "I'm sorry, Varric." She apologized immediately. "I'm so tired…I can't think straight." He nodded but said nothing.

Rialla and Solas continued down a ways and found a gate with three bars. "Found your three lines, Cassandra." Rialla called out in a sing song voice.

Cassandra pulled a face and jogged over to her, forgetting for the moment that she owed Varric a decent apology later. Sure enough, the gate was missing a bar, thus three lines. "Well, isn't that odd?" She noted, tilting her head to one side.

Rialla went through the gate, narrowly missing an arrow aimed for her head. Cassandra made quick work of the two thugs, deflecting one arrow straight back into the bandits' eye while the other attempted to run. Solas electrocuted him before he could get far. They made their way through the short alley to the heavy door mentioned in the note. Once inside a man in a mask shot a fireball at Rialla, hitting the door instead.

"Ah ha! How long did it take you to finally find me, Inquisitor?" He sounded cocky, pompous, and that mask didn't help. Rialla snorted at the man, unable to stop her laughter at first. He glared.

"I don't even know who you are!" She shook her head, ready to walk away from the mage.

"I am Fredrick-" He was cut off by the sound of a body hitting the floor.

"Just say 'what'." A young blond elf stood with her bow drawn and pointed at the man in the mask.

"What do-" The arrow flew, hitting him in the eye. He made a sickening gurgle as he fell back.

The girl giggled. "You heard me right, say 'what'? He was a squishy one. Hope you got arrows or somethin' cause there's more!" As if on cue a dozen men without pants on came running out toward her with swords drawn. "HA! No 'breeches'!" The young woman shouted, gleefully sticking men with arrows.

"Why couldn't you have stolen their weapons?" Cassandra groaned is disgust as she blocked another attack from a man without pants. They were hardly a challenge for Rialla, and likely having no pants helped.

"So…that was strange." Rialla glanced around at the dead men. "Who _are_ you?"

"Names Sera." The elf shoved her hand out, shaking Rialla's.

She took her hand back, eyeing the elf suspiciously. "Who is Red Jenny? Is it you?"

"Red Jenny isn't a who, it's a what. It's people, people helping people. Like what you're doing, helping. Red Jenny can help you, Inquisition. I want to help my people get back to normal." Sera smiled proudly, Cassandra grimaced. This woman was giving everyone a headache.

"Your people? You mean elves?" Rialla asked.

"No, not just elves, _people_ people. Look, do you need help or not?" Sera frowned, crossing her arms.

Mentally Rialla had had it. She was tired, sore, and wanted nothing more than to go find a quiet corner and sleep. "Fine, you can help. We're camped at the Haven Chantry in Ferelden." She could feel Solas rolling his eyes behind her.

"You won't be disappointed!" And Sera left.

"I want to go home." Rialla groaned.

Cassandra nudged her with a small smile. "So do I."

"We need a drink and a good meal." Varric pointed out, holstering Bianca. "Tavern?"

"Yes, Tavern." Solas followed the other three.

 **OoOoOoO**

Rialla had gone alone to the Salon, dressed in her armor and not wearing a mask. The herald introduced her and let her pass without a word. She immediately was stopped by a very excited woman and her patient husband. "Look! It's her." She mumbled.

"Evette, stop this. Let the woman pass." He chided gently.

"Can I help you?" Rialla stopped before the pair.

"It is so exciting to actually meet you, I've heard the most magnificent stories! Tell me, are any of them true?" She wrung her hands, a large smile on her lips.

"Yes, everything you've heard…completely true." Rialla smiled proudly, the woman gave an excited laugh muttering 'I knew it!' before leaving.

As she entered the main hall where the majority of the people were talking and eating. A few gasped and whispered to one another as she passed, though most didn't give her a second look. As she stood by one of the massive windows a man approached her. He bowed in greeting and smiled. "So you believe yourself to be a 'Herald' of blessed Andraste? Isn't that a bit arrogant?" He offered her a glass of wine.

"I don't really know…" She took a sip, nodding in thanks for the drink. "I didn't ask to be _this_ and I haven't ever claimed to be holy." She kept her voice down as she talked to the masked man.

"I suppose that is fair. Honestly, I'm not sure anyone would do any better or worse in your positon. Too early to tell." He bowed politely and turned to leave. "Maker go with you."

A woman in an extravagantly detailed, and probably very pretty by Orlisian standards, stark white enchanters coat surveyed the room, her gaze settling on Rialla. It gave Rialla pause, wondering if she actually should have worn a gown. The woman's hat alone made her chuckle, looking like an over-dressed cow. She found her pretentious, and somewhat amusing, until she spoke.

"My dear, I'm so delighted you could make it." She made her way to Rialla, taking her by the arm.

"It's a lovely party." She noted, looking around.

"You're not from here, I imagine it seems a bit odd." Her lips curved up into a reassuring smile.

Rialla laughed softly, a bit relieved. "Yes, actually. I've never seen anything quite like this." She took another sweeping glance at the room. "It's all so…shiny."

The woman's laugh was light and musical. "Indeed. Let me introduce myself. My name is Vivienne, though some call me Madame de Fer. I am the official enchanter to the Imperial Court. I do so appreciate you coming to see me." Her voice was sugar sweet, which only made Rialla all the more cautious. Shia'sal had warned her about the human mages, and political games. Vivienne was testing her, she could feel it.

"I could hardly refuse." She replied evenly. "I admit to having little to no experience here, but I'm under the impression you wanted something other than drinks with the 'Herald'."

Vivienne's smile widened. "Very clever, I wanted to offer my services as a mage. As the Enchanter to the Imperial Court, I possess no small amount of skill, and I am well aware that my aide could be invaluable to your cause." Rialla forced herself to smile politely back, refusing to outwardly show her growing sense of unease in this woman's presence.

"So you would like to join the Inquisition?" The woman nodded with a hum. "Very well, I can hardly refuse willing help. I look forward to speaking with you more in Haven."

"You've made a wise choice." Vivienne turned to leave then. "Do enjoy the party, dear."

Rialla shook her head, deciding she'd had enough of Orlais already she went back to the Tavern to meet up with Cassandra and the others. They would leave at first light to get back to Haven, and she couldn't wait. This whole country was beautiful, but if ever there was a place where looks could be any more deceiving, it was here. A nest of vipers disguised as a cocktail party.

 **OoOoOoO**

The trip back was uneventful, save for a deckhand falling into the ships hold and landing on Varric. They made decent time returning to camp, Sera had made it a few days before and Vivienne had sent word she'd be arriving later in the week.

"I already dislike that woman." Rialla grumbled as they walked toward the Chantry. Cullen and Leliana waited outside the door, discussing training schedules and supply runs.

Cassandra sighed, shaking her head. "Orlisians are dangerous enough, but an enchanter to the Court? She will certainly keep us on our toes, I suppose."

Varric rolled his eyes. "Never understood how they made it this far if they're always trying to kill one another." Solas hummed in agreement. As they approached Cullen and Leliana, Cassandra broke from the group and she and Leliana made their way to the War Room to discuss what would come next, Solas decided to take some time for himself and Varric went to the tavern. Rialla and the Commander stared at one another for a moment.

"Did that seem odd to you?" She asked, watching as Varric grinned back at her over his shoulder.

"Yes…a bit." He mumbled off handedly, wondering why Leliana didn't stay to share what they'd learned about the Hinterlands. "Leliana wanted you to know they've located a Grey Warden in the area, name of Blackwall. He could be an asset, we've also secured a few agents within the Hinterlands and surrounding area, it's helped our spies quite a bit." He turned toward her, handing her a report from scout Harding.

"Interesting, so should I go find this Blackwall?" Cullen nodded. "And what of the mages? Any word from Redcliffe?"

"No, actually. Any attempt to enter the city has been stopped, and with the Mage's and Templar engaged in all out war between our camp and the Castle, we can't get clear information. There's some concern that Tvinter may have sent a magister." Cullen frowned, deep in thought. "If that is the case, it may be prudent to intervene with the mages more so than the Templar knights. If someone was to organize the mages as a weapon, that could do as much damage as the breach."

Rialla nodded, reading over the report. "Cassandra and I will gather some people and head out soon. We should go and see Redcliffe for ourselves." She handed the report back with a smile. "I need a bath and a drink, I will see you this evening."

"As you wish." Cullen spun on his heel, heading to join Cassandra, Leliana, and Josephine.

As she made her way down to the gates she noticed a young, very attractive, man in full plate walking toward her. He spotted her, making a bee line for her. "I'm sorry to bother you, but I've been trying to talk to whoever is in charge here. I have a message from my Commander, Iron Bull."

"I can take the message for you." She replied. The man had distinctly feminine features, though everything from clothing to haircut, appeared masculine. Even the voice sounded feminine.

"I'm to report that Bull and his Chargers have intercepted a group of Venatori on the coast, we offer our services to the Inquisition, and information. If your company is interested, come to the Storm Coast…watch us work." He grinned.

"Sounds promising." Rialla smiled in return. "I believe we could use all the help we can get, and I look forward to meeting this 'Iron Bull'."

"Excellent, I'll see you there." And the man was off, rushing down to the gate where a young elf held the reins to a black horse.

Rialla continued down to the bathhouse, enjoying a quick rinse before heading up to the Chantry. In a few hours they'd be sitting down to eat and then she wanted to get as much sleep as she could. She'd leave in the morning to go find the Warden and, if she was lucky enough to recruit him, head to the Storm Coast and find Iron Bull and his company.


	5. In Hushed Whispers

**A/N: I had to fly through some of this, I didn't want it to take as long to read it as it did to play through it. I am changing things (yay! Maybe yay...) I wanted it to be a little bit different, mostly the same, but with a twist or two. And I spelled Tevinter wrong like eight times...sorry. And, in case anyone forgot, I don't own any of this but a few names. Bioware made these characters possible :D**

 **OoOoOoO**

The 'Iron Bull' was aptly named, being a massive qunari. His company, the Chargers, were as efficient as they were deadly. Rialla had agreed to pay them to join the growing armies of the Inquisition, having a Ben Hasrath spy in their ranks would certainly go far in helping Leliana. Bull had asked to join her when they went to find the Grey Warden, Blackwall. He had been curious if the warriors measured up to the stories he'd heard. They'd left the coast and headed inland, closing a number of rifts as they went.

As it turned out, Blackwall had been looking for them. One of Leliana's spies had informed them that he was up near Lake Luthias. Rialla and company had made camp near by. Blackwall had wandered in, asking after the 'Herald'.

"Ser, someone here to see you." The requisition officer poked her head into the tent Rialla was in.

"I'll be out in a moment." She fastened a few buckles and straps of her armor and checked herself to make sure she was properly dressed.

She exited the tent and saw a man in full plate armor standing beside Bull. The two were talking amiably when she approached.

"So, you give up your name for your…rank? What a strange custom. Though, I suppose it is similar to being called 'Warden' all the time." He said with a shrug.

Bull nodded and turned to Rialla. "Hey, boss. Looks like the Warden found you." He motioned with a horn toward Blackwall.

"I can see that." She smiled, silently grateful they wouldn't have to trudge all through the Hinterlands looking for the man. "I am Rialla."

Blackwall smiled at her. "Pleasure, milady. I see you know who I am."

Rialla nodded in reply. "This saves us a lot of time looking for you. I would like to extend to you the same offer we made to the Iron Bull and his men, join the Inquisition and help us fix the whole in the sky."

Blackwall nodded solemnly. "I had hoped to be of service, this will work. I'll join so long as we aim to help those who can't help themselves. I cannot stand by and watch innocent people suffer knowing I could have stopped it."

"Then our goals are the same." Rialla agreed, shaking his hand. "Currently, there is some concern that there are Tevinter agents in Redcliffe, have you heard anything?"

Blackwall shook his head in the negative. "No, but I have heard that Arl Tegan has returned to Denerim to seek the aide of King Alistar. Apparently Warden Amell had convinced him to allow the rebel mages safe haven in the city and now it appears they've turned on him."

"That's more than we had yesterday. I think it is high time we made our presence known in Redcliffe." She turned to Varric and Bull. "Assemble a group of soldiers and get a few horses ready to travel. If we leave now we should be able to make Redcliffe before nightfall." Varric nodded and followed Bull toward camp. "How have you come by your information?" Rialla cast a glance at him

"Rumor, mostly, and some scouting on my own. I saw a large ship dock last night. It was Tvinter make." She scowled at the ground.

"Why would _they_ come here? And only one ship? That's hardly an invasion force. It's hardly an envoy!" She made her way toward the scribe and his crows. "Harding, can you get a message out to Leliana?" Harding nodded, shoving the scribe out of the way.

"I'll deliver it myself, just be careful out there." She ignored the parchment and simply left. Leliana's spies all knew the value of information, and the importance of appearing not to have any.

Rialla took Varric, Bull, and Blackwall to the city gate. A guard refused to let them come any closer, a massive rift had opened in front of the gate and it was no longer safe for travelers. Rialla held her hand up, stating she would close the rift if they were allowed passage to speak to whoever was in charge. After a brief moments hesitation, and seeing no other alternative, the guard agreed.

All of the rifts up to this point had been frightening. The demons falling out of them never seemed to get any easier to see. This time, Rialla saw distortions in the air, seemingly speeding up or slowing down whatever passed through them. Closing the rift had destroyed the disruption in time, leaving nothing to prove they'd even happened.

"Did you feel that?" She stood beside Varric. "It felt like…I don't know how to describe it."

Varric grunted. "All this shit is weird." He replied.

Bull glanced back at Blackwall, they shrugged at one another and made their way toward the gate. As it opened an elf wearing the typical enchanters robes approached.

"I am Fiona, allow me to welcome you to Redcliffe." She bowed and smiled, the smile seemed strained. "How can we help you, Herald?"

Rialla and Varric exchanged curious glances. "We were here to help…you."

Fiona gave a loud, forced laugh. "Oh how silly of me! Please, come join me in the Tavern for a warm meal. I'll see to it you have a place to rest for the evening." Her smile stretched, but there was something in her eyes that made Rialla nervous.

"She's not telling us anything." She whispered to Varric. He nodded, reaching back to check on Bianca.

"Smells like a trap, boss." Bull grumbled, glaring at the townsfolk as they passed.

They'd nearly made it to the Tavern when a young elven mage approached, a bright smile on his face. "Fiona, how good of you to bring these visitors to your master. He will certainly appreciate you thinking for yourself." The mage gave her a cold smile laced with malice. "Now run along, darling, and fetch him." He turned to Rialla and company. "Do continue to the Tavern, we will certainly see to your lodgings if needed, though I doubt you will be staying long."

"You aren't going to introduce yourself?" Rialla called out as he walked away.

"No need for you to know my name, Magister Alexius will make that determination." He sneered and continued away.

"Dread Wolf take them…" Rialla muttered darkly. "This is the weirdest shit yet." Varric made a sound of agreement.

They sat at the Tavern, and after speaking to a Tranquil who wished to live and serve, ate a meal in silence. They received indifferent or frightened glances from a few patrons. They'd hardly been there an hour when the elf from earlier entered, nodding at them with a tight smile. A man in Tvinter robes and gold entered.

"By his pompous stance, I'm going to assume that is a magister." Rialla fought the urge to roll her eyes.

"Be careful, boss. Magisters of the Imperium are more dangerous than most 'vints." Bull stood first, giving the spiteful elf pause as he approached. Rialla grinned at that.

"I present to you, Magister Alexius." The man bowed with a glare at the qunari.

Rialla stood, plastering a delighted smile on her face. "I'm honored to make your acquaintance, Magister. How do you find Redcliffe so far?"

He chuckled, casting a wry smile her way. " _Accommodating_ to say the least." There was a hint of a challenge in his tone. "And you? Have my servants been helpful?" He stuck his hand out to shake hers, giving her hand a firm squeeze. She opted not to fight him on the handshake, she'd have plenty of time to find a suitable way to make him beg for mercy.

"Indeed, I've never seen such loyalty in any clan." She returned to her seat. Alexius gave her a questioning look but decided to move on.

"So, what can you do for us, Inquisition? Have you come to beg for the use of my mages?" The elf ran to fetch him a glass of wine. "I'm willing to part with some of them for the right price."

"Are you now? Well, that does sound like a bargain…however, I plan to just take them. No bargain necessary." She grinned back at him with a wink.

"Is that so?" He spoke slowly, testing the words on his tongue before letting them fall to the table. She could sense his anger rising, feel the air in the room suddenly shift. She'd not realized until just then that he was, in fact, a mage. "Well, dear Herald, explain to me this one thing then." He motioned to her anchor. "How does a confused young woman, raised to believe she's Dalish, come to bear the 'Mark of Andraste'? How does a _heretic_ come to represent a God?" He was glaring hard at her, his fist clenched tightly. "You are an insult, _herald_. Unless you have what I require, these mages will be of no use to you." He flexed his hand a few times. He opened his mouth to share terms when a young man came stumbling through the door. He approached the group and fell to his knee. Rialla impulsively raced to his side, slinging an arm over her shoulder.

"Hold on, now. On your feet." She mumbled, helping him to his feet. "Are you well?" He suddenly lost his footing again, reaching for her. She caught his hand and helped him to a chair as Alexius flew to his side.

"Felix!? What has happened? You were to be resting, today." Gone was the edge of annoyance, superiority, and all his animosity. He was suddenly full of concern for the young man. "We're done here, Inquisition. Come back with a serious offer or not at all." He hissed over his shoulder before ordering the elf to run ahead and prepare Felix's 'powders'.

Rialla stood beside Varric in shocked silence, her fist closed around a small piece of paper. "That man left me a note." She whispered distractedly. "We need to go to the Chantry right away, apparently we're in danger." She handed Varric the note, keeping her eyes on the door the Magister and his son had left through.

They waited another twenty minutes before heading to the Chantry. Rialla could hear something on the other side of the door and rushed through. A rift had opened inside. A solitary mage fought off several demons, looking close to exhaustion.

"Nice of you to stop by! Now be a dear and give us a hand." He sent a bolt of energy into a demon.

Rialla readied her bow as Iron Bull charged forward and slammed into the demon. The mage let out a startled gasp as Bull rounded on him and brought his two-handed maul down on a demon just to the side of the mage. Rialla shot several arrows out at the three demons, hitting all three in the head. It did little more than slow them down. She holstered the bow and produced two daggers, she was better in close combat. She dodged well enough, keeping just out of range of the creatures long enough to inflict a few critical hits. Once they'd dealt with the demons, she turned and closed the rift.

"So _you're_ the one with the glowing hand." Dorian smirked at her. "Dorian Pavus, at your service."

"You're from Tevinter." Rialla eyed him warily. He nodded and started to say something but she cut him off. "Where is Felix? I was expecting him?"

"I'm here, milady." He answered mildly. "I thought I'd never get free of him, Dorian." The older man rushed to his side, checking on Felix.

"You shouldn't put yourself at risk, Felix. He will not always be forgiving of your transgressions." Dorian reminded him.

"Anyone want to let _me_ in on just what the hell is going on here?" Rialla stomped her foot.

Dorian motioned for them to have a seat. As he explained about Alexius and his change, him following some 'Elder One' and his eternal struggle to find a cure for Felix, Rialla felt a little sorry for him. To be forced to watch your son die slowly…However, she was quickly interested in his leader, the Elder One.

"He gets his power from this ancient magister?" Varric rubbed his temples. "We should head back to Haven, I'm sure the others will want to hear of this."

"I'll gather my men, meet you there." Bull nodded.

"I suppose I'll just follow you and Varric." Blackwall shrugged.

"And you, Dorian?" Rialla turned to the mage.

"I shall await your return with baited breath, in the Tavern…with a drink." He grinned at her. "Do hurry, though. I sense time is of the essence."

"Agreed." Rialla and Bull parted ways at the gates to Redcliffe. He assured her he'd be there within a day, if not sooner.

When she arrived, it was well after midnight, a few soldiers stood guard at the gates to Haven, along with their Commander. He was more than a little surprised to see her, noting a Qunari and his militia had shown up only a few hours earlier.

Cullen walked with her to her cabin. "He startled the soldiers and if you'd not sent Harding ahead I think it could have ended rather poorly for our men." He said with a smirk. "How did you do? I see you managed to enlist the Warden, were you able to discover anything in Redcliffe?"

She opened the door, inviting him in. "It's not looking good. There is a Magister there, Gereon Alexius. His son, Felix, is ill but I don't know with what. He's taken complete control of the mages, enslaved them…or something like it." She sat heavily on her bed. "I don't know what to do, Cullen. This is beyond anything I'd ever dealt with in my clan." She rubbed her eyes tiredly. "Honestly, I feel completely inadequate for the task."

He sat beside her, sighing wearily. "You're doing fine, more than we'd hoped actually."

"Really?" She looked hopeful.

"I'd say so, all we knew when we found you was that you were involved somehow. Now we know that you can close the rifts, and eventually maybe even heal the sky. You're competent and courageous, more than that, you're willing. We'd be lost without you, Rialla. You are a beacon of hope, and while it may feel like an unwelcome burden…you've far exceeded even my expectations."

She leaned her head against his shoulder. "Thank you, Cullen. It means a lot to hear you say so."

He stood slowly, smiling down at her. "Well, you should get some sleep if you can. Tomorrow we'll figure out what to do with Redcliffe." With a curt nod, he turned and made his way out.

Sleep came quickly, though it was hardly restful. She was plagued by nightmarish creatures and the screams of those she couldn't save. She stood before a great rift, fade and demons pouring out of it like blood from an open wound. Her clansmen stood beneath it, one by one being overcome by the horde. She opened her mouth to scream, willed the rift to close, but when she looked to her anchor her arm was gone. She felt panic rising in her throat, closing off her airway. Suddenly she couldn't move, a great weight upon her. She flailed her arms wildly, tears streaming down her cheeks as the terror closed in around her.

"RIALLA!" She heard a voice shouting in the distance, the force of it beginning to shake her body loose of whatever had tried to claim her. With each shout she felt herself being ripped from the nightmare. "RIALLA, WAKE UP!"

Her eyes flew open, a scream tearing itself loose from somewhere deep within her very soul as she clawed at the creature holding her like a wild animal, screaming until she felt bile rising her throat. She managed to wrench herself free in time to heave onto the ground. As she emptied her stomach of anything it had, she attempted to focus on her breathing, the light in the room, and the firm hands at her shoulders.

She glanced up, Cullen's amber eyes boring into her with worry. "You were having a nightmare, half the encampment heard you screaming." He spoke softly, his voice was chasing away what remained of her fear. Acting on impulse and the lingering fear, she wrapped her arms around his neck, burrowing into him. If she'd been able, she would have crawled into his armor and hidden away from the world. He held her protectively, whispering comfortingly into her hair as she wept.

After a few moments she pulled back, noticing the mess on the ground and winced. "Don't worry, I'll have someone clean that up." He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "I know how _real_ nightmares can be." She couldn't find her voice and simply nodded. "Here, drink this." He handed her a wine skin. "It's strong, taste terrible, and will help you feel more like you."

Wordlessly she took it, sniffing the contents with a grimace before taking a drink. It was wine, but stronger than she'd had before. The shock of the alcohol and bitter taste pulled a curse from her. Cullen chuckled at it, mumbling something about not being able to take the Dalish out of the girl.

"I'm sorry." She rasped, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

Cullen gently caressed her pale cheek. "Don't be, no one expects you to be unaffected by all this." He encouraged her to take another drink. "It just shows you're human. Andraste was frightened, she was human. I don't know much of Dalish God's but I can assume that their followers would have been just as afraid to face anything like this were they here." She nodded, grateful of his compassion.

"Do you have nightmares? I mean, from when you were in the Circle in Ferelden." She glanced up, seeing something dark pass over his face before he nodded.

"I will never forget that time, though I try. I try to remember what Warden Amell's face looked like, or Alistair when they found me." He took a deep breath, taking a pull from the wine skin. "One of these days I'll share my nightmare with you, but not today. You've had enough to frighten you for one day."

He smiled and stood, pulling her up by her elbow and helping her find her balance. "Are you well enough to walk to the War Room?"

Rialla took a few experimental steps and nodded. She walked a few steps and stumbled. Cullen quickly caught her and wrapped her arm in his to balance her. "I've got you." He whispered. For a moment she felt light on her feet, her cheeks grew hot, and she couldn't help but smile.

"Chivalry may well be alive and kicking, Commander." She teased. He chuckled as they made their way toward the Chantry. They spoke of her trip to Orlais, the little cakes she'd found there, and her fascination with their use of masks. He had remarked that he found Ferelden to be as beautiful, telling her how Honneleath would burst with color in the spring.

As they entered the War Room where Josephine, Leliana, and Cassandra sat waiting, he helped her to a seat and wordlessly took his usual position at the other end of the table. He ignored Leliana's grin as he passed.

"Are you unwell?" Cassandra rushed to where she sat and stopped, as if she was afraid to touch her.

"Just a nightmare, I'll be fine. The Commander was kind enough to assist me." Cassandra smiled gratefully at him while Leliana mumbled something that earned a scowl.

They discussed the situation in Redcliffe. Leliana strongly opposed Cullen's plan to use brute force. 'Redcliffe castle has never been breached' she reminded him. She mentioned an escape route used by the family, suggesting instead that her spies go in and only a handful of people with them to face Alexius.

"Grand idea! I do say, you will need help. Which I plan to give." Dorian burst through the door like he owned the place. An out of breath scout behind him, mumbling apologies.

"Dorian! I hadn't thought you would come all this way." Rialla spoke up suddenly, standing slowly and leaning heavily on the table.

"I love surprises, especially when they benefit me." He gave her a cheeky grin before turning serious. "The thing is, Alexius was my mentor. He has changed, become obsessed with trying to find a cure for Felix. I fear he may have made a dangerous alliance with something even he doesn't quite understand." Dorian glared at the marker over Redcliffe. "He was a dear friend, I can't in good conscience not try and help him…or, if it comes to it, stop him."

Rialla glanced at Cullen to gauge his reaction. He nodded at her, eyeing the mage with concern. "I am glad to have your help, then" She said finally. "Leliana has a plan and we'll need to act quickly."

Leliana carefully outlined the plan to make their way in through the escape route and surprise Alexius in the great hall. If it went even a little in the right direction, it would give them an edge. One they desperately needed.

Rialla took a day to recoup her strength, and with a strong sleeping potion Solas gave her, slept without difficulty. She was up before dawn and met with Cullen and Cassandra to go over anything they might have missed.

"Be careful, you won't have the aid of a Templar to disrupt his magical talents, but I can give you this amulet." He removed the necklace in question. "It works by subduing magic in an area, making it more difficult to cast. It won't stop him, but should buy you some time."

"And I will go with you." Cassandra gave her a serious look. "I should not let you out of my sight, it is my job to protect you."

"Really, I'm not completely inept at this whole fighting thing." Rialla joked. "I was raised by the greatest hunters alive."

"You were raised by elves? What's next, being raised by _actual_ wolves?" Dorian chuckled at his own joke. "You're truly a marvel, I must see you through this." Cullen cast a sideways glance at the mage. "Is this handsome man also going to lend us his _services_?" Cullen guffawed at the remark and the absolutely lewd look Dorian gave him.

"NO!" He cleared his throat, his face turning scarlet. "I mean…ahem, no. My duties keep me here with the bulk of our forces." He turned on his heel and walked away.

Rialla and Cassandra couldn't help but laugh at flustered Cullen. "That made it all worth it." Rialla noted, nudging Cassandra. "I could die happy." Cassandra ruefully shook her head, grinning at the woman.

Varric and Solas approached, Sera not far behind. "So, you have everyone you need?" Rialla looked around briefly.

"I was going to ask if you'd go with us." She folded her arms. Varric nodded without hesitation.

"Of course I'm going. You need someone to tell the story later." He winked at her.

"Then I believe we're all set." She glanced around at everyone. Iron Bull and Blackwall had approached, Sera had managed to climb atop one horn to look down at Rialla.

"You should take bees." She tossed a satchel at Rialla. She nearly tossed it when it started vibrating. "Trust my friends, they work."

"Be careful, boss." Bull clapped her on the shoulder. Blackwall simply nodded, staying quiet.

"Falon, take this." Solas handed her a small glowing green gem. "I, too, have a few friends who could help you." As she stared into the orb and the swirling green energy, she saw something move. "A spirit of courage, put to its divine purpose. It will help you whenever you find yourself in need."

Rialla stared at the gem in wonder. "This is incredible, Solas. Thank you." She whispered before tucking the gem into a pocket on her belt. "Well, wish us luck. Pray. Beg…let's hope we're home in time for supper."

Rialla, Cassandra, Dorian, and Varric mounted up and left. They made it to the secret entrance just after sun-up. Rialla muttered that she hoped this wouldn't be as awful as she thought it would only to have Dorian laugh her off and reminding her that they were up against a power-hungry magister who could open fade rifts while in service to some 'Elder One'.

Now, as she stood knee deep in murky water, she wished she'd stayed back. Cassandra and Varric had vanished in a flash, she and Dorian woke up in a jail cell being attacked by mutated venatori. As they made their way through the maze of a castle Rialla felt herself slipping further into fear and despair. Her hand going to the gem Solas had given her and praying that it worked when she needed it.

"Look, these look like dungeon cells." She led Dorian through a heavy door. Massive growths of red lyrium had broken through the walls like a Rashvine through an old wagon. Brick had been dislodged but was slowly being absorbed into the growth. "By the Gods, this is…that looks like a _head_!" She covered her mouth and backed away. Dorian walked up to the cell beside her, noting an arm sticking out of a shard of the lyrium. Sure enough, the stone had grown up to the eyes, one of which had been forced out of its socket.

"Incredible. This lyrium grows like a plague, or a virus even. It's as if it's alive." He murmured, walking away from the poor soul.

"Is..is someone there?" A faint voice called from somewhere deeper in the dungeon.

Rialla ran down the rows, recognizing her voice immediately. "Cassandra!" She shook the gate, impatiently trying to open it before Dorian could unlock it.

"How is this possible?" She backed into her cell. "I saw you die!" Her voice rose in fear and uncertainty.

"Well you saw wrong, Cassandra. Tada! Still alive." Dorian unlocked the door, slowly opening it. "What is the date? This is important."

"It's Harvestmere…9:42 Dragon." She eyed Dorian suspiciously.

"9:42?! It's been a year, here. I knew it!" He punched the wall with a frustrated growl. "Damnit, Alexius. You damned _fool_!" Dorian walked away from the cell, mumbling to himself.

"What's wrong?" Rialla glanced between him and a nervous Cassandra.

Dorian sighed and glared at her. "Years ago, when we worked together in Minrathos, we were studying the effects of magic as it related to time. Looking for ways to manipulate it and distort it, maybe even control it. The magic was wildly unstable and incredibly dangerous." Dorian ran a hand through his hair. "It appears that he's nearly gotten it to work, now, though."

"So you were sent into the…future?" Cassandra stepped out of the cell, watching them both carefully.

Rialla gasped as she came into the light. "Your eyes!"

"I'm infected, it's the curse of this place. You have no idea what we've gone through! I was here when Cullen brought the full strength of our forces to the gates, when they clashed against the Demon army Alexius had raised. I saw him die, swearing to avenge you." Cassandra shook her head. "Are you saying this nightmare will never happen if you can get back?"

"In theory, yes, but I need to find Alexius, get his amulet, and preform whatever spell he did." He shrugged. "Easy."

She made to comfort Cassandra, who shoved her away. "Is anyone else still here?" Rialla adjusted her bracers, ignoring her reaction.

"Yes, Varric and Fiona are in another holding area…and Leliana…" Cassandra covered her mouth, eyes closing as if it pained her. "They have her…they've done _things_ to her…"

Rialla grabbed Cassandra's shoulder. "We will find them and fix this. I give you my word."

They freed Varric without much difficulty, Fiona was nearly consumed by the Lyrium. She begged for death, and Cassandra obliged. "It is a kindness to ease her suffering now." They struggled through rift after rift, watching as demons tore through those who hadn't died, venatori soldiers killed one another to draw upon blood magic and summon more and more demons. When they found the 'torture' chamber, Cassandra gasped.

"I hear Leliana!" She bolted for the door, stopping just outside. She glanced back as the others caught up and kicked the door in.

"Perhaps _you_ die today." Leliana hissed before wrapping her legs around the man who had been threatening her, snapping his neck. She collected a bow and arrows from the wall where they kept her weapons and those of others who had tried to fight back. "Cullen would be relieved to know you survived, somehow." She noted sadly.

"We need to find Alexius, Dorian thinks he can reverse what's happened here." Leliana didn't need, or want, further explanation. She simply wanted vengeance.

They fought through a small army of demons and soldiers before finally reaching Alexius.

"I knew you'd be back…I knew you weren't dead." He mumbled, head hung in defeat. Leliana crept up to Felix, forcing Alexius to watch him die.

Dorian tried, in vain, to convince Alexius to concede and let him go back and fix the mess he was in.

"If I cannot save Felix, what good is any of this?!" He wailed.

"Felix died long ago, you simply refuse to let him go." Dorian's voice sounded hollow and Rialla wondered just how close he'd been to the young man.

Alexius had refused, choosing to attack. They'd managed to kill him and Dorian had the amulet. "I need an hour!"

"You have minutes, Sparkler!" Varric and Cassandra exchanged a small smile. "I'm sorry, See-Cassandra. I'm sorry for everything."

Cassandra wiped a tear away and leaned over to place a kiss at the corner of his mouth. "I know, Varric. Come, we will go to the Maker's side together."

Rialla cried, screamed, begged them to stop. "Hey, Sprout, you need time and we've time to spare. Bianca and I will do our best." Cassandra nodded, placing her hand on Varric's shoulder.

Leliana turned from her. "You have as much time as I have arrows, little bird. Go, save us all." As she turned the doors flew open, Cassandra's body impaled on the wall beside the door as Varric's was tossed aside, what was left of Bianca still clutched in one hand.

" _Though darkness closes, I am shielded by flame…"_ An arrow tore through the first to pass the threshold. _"Andraste guide me! Maker, take me to your side!"_ Leliana let loose a hail of arrows, each hitting their mark. More and more creatures and soldiers swarmed around her, an arrow piercing her shoulder. Rialla went to run to her.

"YOU MOVE AND WE _ALL_ DIE!" Dorian shouted above the roar of the magic behind her. Rialla watched, tears streaming down her cheeks with renewed vigor as they took Leliana apart. She saw her own fear mirrored in the Nightingale's eyes. Dorian grabbed ahold of her arm with bruising intensity and forced her through the portal.

There was smoke, gasps, and the sound of a fire burning in a hearth. She spun around to see Alexius standing behind her in shock and amazement. Rialla flew at him, breaking his nose and knocking him to the floor. Dorian managed to pry her off before she could kill him outright. "You monster! You fucking _monster!_ " She roared, furiously fighting Dorian as Leliana made her way to the mage.

"Whatever you planned it has failed. Now _we_ have _you_. You've lost this fight, Alexius, and the Inquisition will judge you for it." She turned to her men and nodded. Leliana made her way to Felix, who smiled sadly at her. "There is no cure for the blight, but I can help make the passing more bearable."

Dorian looked horrified, losing his grip on Rialla. She scrambled to her feet, only to have Cassandra and Varric stop her. She looked at them both as if she was seeing them for the first time and threw her arms around them, dragging both to the ground in a fierce hug while she wept. Dorian glanced between her and Leliana. "You can't possibly know what we've seen." His tone was calm, flat even. "Please, don't kill Felix."

"Kill?! I said I would help, didn't I?" She looked offended. "I learned a few things from my time with Alistair and Evelyn, I know how to make his death less painful without just outright killing the man. As bad as Alexius was, I could never just _kill_ an innocent…even if it was his son."

Dorian gave her a sad smile and nodded. Leliana was more curious now about that future they'd seen, but resisted asking until Rialla was in a better state of mind. As it was she was weeping and telling Cassandra and Varric she'd never fail them again.

 **OoOoOoO**

They returned to Haven, with King Alistair's blessing, and the mages. He'd furiously banished the mages, also disclosing to Leliana that Evelyn had sent word about the other Warden's. He couldn't help her now, but he would send word or come himself to help when he could. Rialla had calmed down and was busy drinking away her nightmare in the tavern with her friends. She had made a vow to them that no matter what comes next, how far they travel, or where they're from, she would serve as their friend on and off the battlefield. Cassandra cheered, 'May our enemies know fear and our friends know our hearts'. Iron Bull remarked that, for a young woman, Rialla had the drinking stamina of ten qunari.

"I would like to learn more about the Qun." She had offhandedly remarked.

Bull and Varric laughed at that. "That's as vague as saying I'd like to know more about the color green. You don't just learn it, you live it. It's a full body experience." Varric tipped his drink to Bull.

"Maybe I could go and see Seharon for myself one day. I think I should learn about all the cultures that exist. I can hardly make a fair or impartial decision if I know nothing. How will I know how to talk to them, to humans-" A tankard slammed down beside her, followed by a familiar red cloak.

"You _are_ human!" Cullen shouted with mock exasperation. "You're a lovely human woman who was raised by lovely Dalish elves."

Cassandra laughed at that, slapping Varric on the back. "He sounds more and more like you every day, Varric."

He chuckled. "I think you like it." Cassandra chuckled and nodded, mumbling a thank you to the dwarf.

"Ok, ok, I get it. Flat ear, completely elf free…I was raised in a culture that didn't have others like me. Look at Sera, she was exactly the opposite. It's possible to be completely overtaken by your culture…even if it isn't inherently _yours._ " She gave him a smirk and waggled her eyebrows at him.

"Whas'at? I don't do, _elves_. Bare feet, whining…issall bad for them." Sera muttered, glaring at Solas who fixed a reproachful glare on her.

"You, da'len, simply don't know what you've been lead away from." She snorted in response.

"Dollen? Pffft!" She made an undignified noise at Solas. The table erupted into laughter.

More than a few times, Rialla caught Cullen watching her out of the corner of his eye. She could see the worry there, having heard from Cassandra about her emotional return from the fade, or where ever it was she'd gone. He was afraid she would break and she knew, without having to ask, that he would try and fix her. She had assumed that with what he'd lived through, and what Varric had told her he'd been part of, it made sense that someone who was more damaged than her would be able to sense her struggle. As the night wore on and the others began to say their good nights, she stayed for one last drink with the Commander.

"You're worried about me." She noted, smiling when she saw him blush faintly.

"Is that wrong?" He looked as if he was genuinely concerned he'd offended.

Rialla placed a hand over his. "I appreciate your worry, Cullen." He eyed her hand with a strange look she couldn't understand. It was fear and delight. "I should tuck in for the evening, I have to close that damnable rift tomorrow." Cullen nodded, helping her to her feet.

"Can I at least walk you back?" He offered her his arm, which she readily accepted.

"You're not wearing all your armor!" She blushed at her outburst. "I'm so sorry, I hadn't noticed with that cloak wrapped around you. Though to be honest, I wasn't looking at much below the neck." She blushed and giggled. "You've got very pretty eyes."

"You think so? I always found them to be plain, straw colored." He smirked and shrugged. "But I thank you, all the same." She giggled and skipped, humming to herself. "You're a rather accomplished drinker, they teach all their women to drink?"

She snorted. "No! They teach the men, though! Or, rather, the men drink. Elven liquor is much stronger than this tripe. Not horrible, but if you can't smell it you're better for it. Our drinks smell as good as they taste!" She stated proudly.

"You are rather proud of your heritage, aren't you?" He laughed as she stumbled into him.

She stopped smiling suddenly. "It isn't mine, really. I just want something to hold onto, something I can look back on and be proud. Like my mother, Shia'sal and my sister. I hope Nera is proud of me." She mumbled the last bit as they reached her door.

Cullen turned her to face him, tilting her chin up to meet his gaze. "I would believe she'd be beyond proud. You may be human but you will always belong to the Dalish. That _is_ yours." Rialla looked as though she would laugh and cry. She muttered a thank you but couldn't seem to tear her eyes away from his.

"Will you stay? Just…stay here until I fall asleep?" Cullen nodded, leaning past her to open the door. She made her way over to the bed, crawling under the heavy blankets. He pulled up a chair and got comfortable, pulling his boots off and covering himself with his cloak. She started to protest him sleeping in a chair only to have him gently shove her back down into the bed.

"Sleep, Rialla. I'm a soldier, I could sleep on a rock in the snow without a blanket, a chair in a warm room is a luxury we rarely get." He winked at her. "Rest, you've earned it. I'll be here if you need anything."

Rialla blew out the candle, laying down facing him. She could see his eyes glittering in the moonlight and tried to focus on his features. His nose, the curls of his disheveled hair, his jawline. She could make some of it out, following the scar up to his eyes again. He was watching her intently, in the same way he studied his opponent in a fight. Looking for weakness, or in her case, looking for signs of a struggle. She assumed he didn't even see her, really. He was preforming a duty.

Cullen sat in the chair, not entirely uncomfortable. He watched her eyes roaming over him, studying him. He idly thought of how ironic it was that he, a man stricken by night terrors, would be here in some vain effort to protect this slip of a woman from hers. He hardly slept, but sitting in the dark and wrapped in his cloak it was impossible not to feel tired. It hadn't been more than an hour when he noticed her breathing had evened out and she was finally sleeping. He smiled, then, feeling proud to have such a noble purpose. Protect the Lady Rialla from nightmares.


	6. Stumbling into Faith

**So...if anyone has any criticism or suggestions...you know what to do. If not, I'm happy you're reading :) (Side note, Mala Sulendin Nadas means now you must endure. I get all my 'Dalish' from the internets. The Dragon Age Wiki site has a bit that I've used.**

Standing before the breach she felt very small, insignificant. It had been such a massive undertaking, seemingly insurmountable odds stacked against her. But here, at the end of all things, she stood in direct opposition of everything it stood for. Behind her she could hear Solas calling out to the mages, telling them to reach out with their magic, and to reach beyond her. Cassandra warily stood back with Cullen and the bulk of the soldiers. _'Nera…watch over me.'_ She closed her eyes and focused all her will on the mark.

At first she felt a small tingle starting in her palm, soon spreading up to her shoulder and eventually her whole body. There was a sudden silence followed by a deafening boom, the force of which knocked everyone to the ground. She heard Cassandra shouting her name but could scarcely move, hardly able to stay conscious. She had taken a knee, trying to catch her breath, as the warrior flung herself to the ground beside her.

"You did it…" She whispered breathlessly. Rialla cast a glance skyward and smiled. _'At last'_.

Haven was alive with the sound of cheering, singing, and joyous shouts. They were celebrating their first victory, though something felt _off_. The villain hadn't shown himself, if you won the day you should have vanquished the one responsible. He, or whatever _it_ thought itself to be, had not been there.

"It's too soon, Cassandra." Rialla spoke softly, trying to keep her worries to herself. Perhaps she was wrong, maybe they really were safe here. Haven wasn't the easiest place to reach, they should be able to see him coming if it came to that.

"Issall good, your heraldiness!" Sera clapped her on the shoulder with a lopsided grin. "You won, Ri, enjoy it!" She offered her a drink. Rialla accepted with a smile, sipping the drink.

"Sera is right, Rialla." Cassandra grinned as the young elf bounded after Krem and Bull. "Let them have their victory."

"You're right, I'm sure. I just…it's this feeling in my gut, something is horribly wrong." She grimaced, downing the contents of the mug. "Or it's _this_. Is this Dwarven ale? It's awful!" Cassandra laughed as Rialla tossed the mug to the side.

"Go and enjoy yourself, for once." She shoved her away with a smirk before walking back to Leliana.

Rialla made her way down toward the noise, a large bonfire at the front gate surrounded by all her friends didn't sound half bad. But she couldn't help it, something was tugging at the back of her mind, telling her to arm up and prepare for an attack. Apparently, Cullen felt the same way. His massive shield strapped to his back, sword at his hip, and the lion helm still in one hand.

"So I'm not the only one feeling on edge, huh Commander?" His eyes snapped to hers, for a moment he was just that. The Commander, a dangerous man and the head of her army. Not the man she'd come to see as a true friend. His eyes softened as he took her in, not quite relaxing but letting his guard down enough to appreciate her presence.

"No, I suppose not. Though, truth be told, I'm always ready these days." He turned his gaze out to the hillside.

"Thank you. For the other night. I'm sure it wasn't very comfortable, but it felt…it was very kind of you." She blushed, thankful for the darkness.

Cullen smiled, still watching the beyond for signs of their enemy. "As I said before," He turned to her, his eyes full of a weariness only a man who has seen too much could possess. "I'm no stranger to the terrors of the night."

In her head, she thought she was being comforting. She approached him slowly, standing on her toes to reach his cheek, and placed a feather soft kiss. "I'm not afraid when I'm with you." She spoke so softly he wasn't even sure she had said anything at all.

Rialla had started to make her way toward Bull, Varric, and the others when a horn blast rang through the night air. Immediately, silence followed. Then another, followed by a man running through the gates.

"WE'RE UNDER ATTACK!" Sera grabbed her bow and tossed her ale into the fire, Varric was never far from Bianca, and Blackwall and Bull were immediately heading to the gate.

"Report!" Cullen roared, grabbing the man. "How many?!"

"There, ser, they're coming from the pass! Thousands of them!" He managed to wrangle himself free and ran to Leliana.

From where Rialla stood she could see the tiny lights of torches along the road to Haven, some littered smaller deer trails, while others seemingly came out of the mountain itself. They looked like fireflies dancing in the distance, harmless and far away. She knew better, they were very dangerous and all too close. Cullen barked orders to his men, the twenty or so Templar he had strategically placing themselves among the platoons of soldiers, the mages following the Templar's lead and putting themselves between the men and danger.

"Mages to the back!" Cullen shouted.

Fiona appeared beside him. "Commander, you know well what a mage can do, we are useless _behind_ the Templar." He knew she was right but the thought of the men and women running into battle with sticks and robes frightened him. "We are far from weak, Commander. Have but a little faith in us."

The mages turned to Fiona, looking for guidance. She gave a small nod and they turned back to the soldiers. A half dozen called upon the fade to create a barrier, and not a moment too soon as a hail of arrows hit the shield and bounced harmlessly away. Then came the elemental mages, calling fire, ice, and lightning down from the heavens. The first wave of attacking soldiers was decimated. The Templar began to move forward, sensing rebel mages in the opposing ranks, and called down massive pillars of light which illuminated the battlefield and effectively rendered the attacking forces magic useless. Several mages continued to hurl fire and electicitiy while others kept the barrier around the men active.

"We need to get in there, boss!" Bull grunted, every muscle tense and ready for battle. Rialla nodded, watching as the Chargers rushed out to meet the oncoming horde.

She felt more than heard someone calling to her, whirling around to face the challenger she was shocked to see a young boy. "I can help, but only if you let me." Rialla was confused.

"What are you talking about?! Who are you? Why are you just _sitting_ there?! You should be running!" She screamed at him, not sure what she was actually seeing. His oversized hat hid most of his features, but she could still make out sickly pale skin and flat blond hair. At his back were two daggers, still dripping in what she assumed was blood.

"I can help!" He looked up to her from his seat, his eerie pale blue eyes frighteningly calm. "Please, let me help." He stated in a softer tone.

Rialla blinked at him a few times. "O-ok. Please, go and _help_." She blinked again and he was gone. She ran over to Leliana, looking for the boy in the mayhem and not finding him.

Dorian stood beside Cassandra, the crackle of magic was everywhere. He kept a barrier up around them while he managed to take down foes further away as she focused on those within range of her sword arm. Bull tore a path through the ranks, Krem and the other Chargers flanking him. Blackwall fought with a smaller unit, calling out defensive orders, Sera and Varric laid down cover fire, doing their level best to keep the opposing archers from picking off any of the Inquisition soldiers.

Rialla stood in total shock, how had they missed _this_. A massive force, easily three times the size of the Inquisition, marching on Haven.

"Look!" The boy startled her and she screamed. "Look, it's _him_." She looked to where he pointed. She felt panic threatening to take her over, taking several deep breaths. "He came from the fade, he is full of evil…we should be running." She looked to the boy beside her.

"We can't run!" Fear gave way to rage, she couldn't _run_. Who would save these people? "We fight or we die."

"You will die." He was started to irritate her.

"Herald, get to that trebuchet, they can't fire with those soldiers swarming around them! I'll cover you." Cullen shouted from somewhere behind you. She looked for the target he spoke of and ran to it without thinking. Dorian, Cassandra, and Iron Bull were already there trying to protect the soldiers loading the trebuchet.

Rialla focused on a single target, taking careful aim. The arrow pierced his eye and he fell. She ran forward, stabbing the next in the neck with an arrow before she pulled back and shot another. The enemy was advancing quickly, soon too close for her bow and she whirled around on the next with her daggers.

"Almost ready to fire, Herald!" A woman called above her. "Just keep them off us for a few more seconds!" Rialla answered her by slicing through the gut of another soldier.

Bull came charging past her, taking down three men with one swing, Cassandra slammed her shield into the forth who got through Bull, blood spraying her shield as Dorian incinerated him.

She heard the wooden gears suddenly spring into motion as the Trebuchet fired, launching a bolder deep into the enemy lines and successfully bringing down some of the mountain with it. It blocked forces from further advancing, and it trapped her and her army with the still sizable force inside. "The other one isn't firing! They need help, milady!" The soldier shouted down as Cullen pulled her away, shouting for them to fall back. Rialla exchanged a quick look with the Commander, nodding in acceptance of what needed to be done and made for the second trebuchet.

"Makes breath, their everywhere!" Cassandra gasped, breathing hard with all the exertion of the battle, blood trickled down the side of her head from a minor injury. Dorian looked worse for wear. His skin pale, nose bleeding. She knew using magic had its price, but to see it happen was something different. Bull stood in front of him, giving the mage slight reprieve as an archer lobbed an arrow at them.

Rialla gaped at the soldiers, massive chunks of flesh torn, what looked like the Red Lyrium Varric had warned her about was actually _growing_ in them. They no longer looked anything like the human or elf they'd been before, but more like ghouls racing across the snow packed ground, frothing at the mouth and eyes black as night.

' _Creators, show pity on your creatures.'_ She made her silent plea to the Gods, or anyone who was listening. There was a sudden flash of green, ethereal light followed by a deafening roar as the fade itself seemed to crush the nearest of the horrific monsters. Dorian let out a strangled groan and collapsed behind her.

"DORIAN!" She rushed to his side. He'd used the last of his strength to give them an edge.

"Go, Herald, I'll protect him." Solas! Where had he been all this time? She'd ask him if they survived, and with a curt nod ran for the trebuchet.

She, Bull, and Cassandra made quick work of the remaining soldiers, each noting how they seemed to be 'infected'. The Trebuchet fired and took down a sizable chunk of the remaining force. Rialla let out a whoop of excitement as she saw the remaining soldiers start their retreat. The massive creature, however, seemed to be undaunted. He stood steadfast at the top of a hill, watching her. Suddenly she realized why the men had retreated, as a roar reverberated around them. Massive and furious, a dragon unlike any she'd ever seen flew over them, burning all in its path. She ran toward Dorian, Bull scooping the mage up in one arm like a sack of flour, and running for the gates.

"RUN!" Cullen's voice was hoarse from shouting, his armor covered in blood and dirt, and his helm had a sizable rend where it had deflected what could have been a fatal blow. Once inside the gate she spun on Iron Bull. He carefully handed Dorian over to a pair of healers who took him up to the Chantry. Roderick stood, that bizarre boy helping him stay standing, at the doors and calling to everyone to come inside 'The Chantry will be your protection'.

"That's a fucking archdemon, isn't it!?" Sera growled out between heavy breaths. Varric looked sick to his stomach and Blackwall eyed the sky for the beast.

"We stand no chance, now it's simply a matter of making them work for it." Cullen's eyes were full of rage, bitterness at his own inevitable defeat…and likely at not being able to push back enough to save anyone.

Once inside, he put out his plan to have them bury Haven. "We're not going to win, we can at least choose how we die." Rialla frowned at him, angry that it had all been for nothing.

"Now I see…Andraste must have _known_ this would happen…" Roderick groaned as he spoke.

"He is going to die, soon. He tried to stop the Red Templar from killing the servants." The boy stuck close to his side, almost as if he was trying to ease his mind. Roderick chuckled, his voice thick as his body started to give way.

"There is a path, you wouldn't know it unless you'd done the pilgrimage as I had in my youth. It leads…leads into the mountains….where…the others can be…safe." He held on to the boy, gasping in pain.

"Cullen? Can you get them out of here?" Rialla needed that small pebble of hope, there was a chance that they would live.

He turned to his men, giving instruction to follow the Chancellors direction and get everyone out through the back of the Chantry.

"But what of you, Herald?" Josephine's accent was heavier when she was frightened, Rialla smiled at her.

"If we're to have a chance…if _you_ are to stand a chance, make him hear you." Cullen squeezed her shoulder and with a nod she turned and made her way back to the Trebuchet. She insisted she go alone, it was her this creature wanted after all.

She managed to sneak past several larger enemies and make her way silently to the trebuchet itself, only to have a massive behemoth of a thing break through the wooden wall to the right of the weapon. Its first blow sent her crashing into a pile of crates. She cried out in pain, struggling to right herself before it could finish her. It hovered over her, screaming in fury, it's horrible mutated cudgel of an arm poised to crush her. It froze, ice moving rapidly up its body and freezing it in place. The sound of steel slamming into it ringing in her ears. She scrambled to her feet to see Cassandra driving it back as Varric let loose a hail of exploding arrows. Solas focused intently on keeping the massive beast as immobile as possible.

She took the opportunity to aim the trebuchet, working fast as her friends struggled against the creature. "READY!" She shouted, Solas nodded and with a magic she'd never seen, tore the creature apart.

A torrent of red fire streaked between her and the others. "Run! GO!" She shouted as the dragon circled back again. Varric drug Cassandra back as she screamed in protest. "I'll be fine…" Rialla whispered, more to herself than them. She dove out of the way as the dragon came back, effectively blocking any chance of escape.

From the fire came the creature she'd seen on the hilltop below. His very presence filling her with dread and rage. She turned to run only to be stopped by the dragon landing behind her, loping forward and screaming. It stopped only a few feet from her, roaring so loudly she thought her ears would burst.

"ENOUGH!" The Elder One shouted, raising his arms and sending a shock of energy through the air. The dragon backed off, Rialla stumbled, unable to move much at all. "Pretender…" His voice grated on her very skin, her stomach churning with fear. "You toy with forces beyond your cairn no more." He took a few steps, closing the distance between them.

"I'm _not_ afraid of you, creature!" She hissed back, still struggling to stand.

"Ah, words hurled in fear at the darkness. Once they were mine, but they are always a lie. Know me, know what you have _pretended_ to be." He leered at her, his eyes boring into her as if they could see into the deepest reaches of her mind. "Exalt the Elder One, the will that is…Corypheus."

She glared, hoping to mask her growing terror.

"You **will** kneel." He pointed to the ground, and she was sure that had he wanted he could have used his significant power to force her. He was testing her, attempting to break her spirit before he broke her body.

"NEVER! Whatever you've come for, whatever your will is, to the void with it!" She took a bold step forward. If she could just get to the other side of him she could fire the trebuchet…even if it meant killing the others.

He laughed, a horrifying sound. "Of course, your kind believe themselves powerful. I have come to take back the anchor, which you have stolen." He held up an orb of stone. "The process of removing it…begins now!" He threw his hand out as the orb began to glow with red energy. The anchor lit up, she could feel her arm being torn apart as he pulled on the magic sealed within her. She screamed in agony, dropping to her knees. The dragon hissed and growled at her, clawing the ground in barely contained fury.

"This is your fault, _herald_." He spat the word out as if it burned. "You interrupted a ritual, years in the making and instead of dying, you stole its purpose." She gasped in pain as his attack seemed to intensify. "I care not how you survived, but what 'marks' you as special I created to assault the very heavens." He sneered, the magic felt as if was tearing her apart. Her blood burned in her arm, she ground her teeth to withstand the pain…sure that at any moment she'd black out.

"You flail the mark at rifts, undo the work I have started." He glared hard at her, the dragon sensing his agitation, snapped at her. " _The gall!"_ He took three steps and stood over her, one claw like arm wrapped around hers as if he was holding a mere twig. For a moment she was in awe of his size, easily nine feet of monstrosity holding her like a rag doll. What flesh he did have seemed to be clinging to jagged shards of metal and stone. He smelled of rot and sulfur, something that had clawed its way from the depths of hell itself to threaten a world it didn't remember. He roared at her, screaming about the fade and the 'Golden City'. She could only concentrate on her breathing, half listening to him bellowing that the mark was permanent. Her mind reeled, ' _an ancient magister, the first darkspawn'_ and all she could do was blink and gasp. "YOU HAVE SPOILED IT WITH YOUR STUMBLING!" He howled at her, his fury now a tangible force surrounding her. He flung her behind him, almost carelessly. She slammed into the side of the trebuchet. She gasped in anticipation for the pain sure to follow. It never came, in its place was clarity and a sense of calm, she knew what to do. "I will start again, find another way to give this nation, this _world_ the GOD it deserves."

As she glanced beyond the furious darkspawn and his dragon, she saw the light of an arrow on fire…the signal that they'd made it safely away. "You are blinded by your own arrogance, good to know." She smirked at him, feeling satisfied with his look of surprise. With a swift kick she launched the boulder. "It's not over, Corypheus. Not by a long shot!" She bolted in the opposite direction, the mountain itself chasing her. The shockwave from the avalanche pitched her forward, flying through a few broken beams. Blackness swallowed her then.

 **OoOoOoO**

"We should leave a signal fire burning, she might see it." Josephine wrung her hands, staring back toward Haven. "She _has_ to see it." She whispered.

"That kid is tough, Ambassador. She'll find a way." Varric sounded sure of himself and Josephine took some solace in that, nodding and going to join Leliana and Cassandra as they began planning their next move.

"Do you really believe she made it?" Cullen stood behind Varric, hand on the pommel of his sword. His eyes were unreadable but the apprehention in his voice told Varric the Commander had doubts. "She brought the entire mountain down on herself."

"I have to believe in her, she's our only hope." The dwarf answered, pulling Bianca off his shoulder and turning back toward the group. "If you'll excuse me, I have to…" He motioned with the bow toward the fire. Cullen nodded in reply, standing watch. He had initially wanted to send a search party back for her, but the possibility of compromising their safety made it all but impossible. If Rialla had made it out of Haven, she'd have to find them on her own. Cullen said a silent prayer to any and all who would hear him.

 **OoOoOoO**

' _Rialla!'_ She jerked awake, looking around wildly. Her body convulsed in pain at the sudden movement. She gasped, crying out in agony. The snow and ice had chilled her to the bone. Her hands and feet were so cold they burned, her head spinning like a top.

' _RIALLA!'_ She started, looking around for the voice. "Hello?" Her own voice cracked. She swallowed hard, realizing no one was actually out there. She felt something warm touching her forehead, moving slowly down the left side of her face. Tentatively, she brought her hand up to touch the area. Blood. She had a nasty gash just above her eye brow, likely a concussion to boot.

Slowly, she managed to pull herself to her feet. The tunnel caved in behind her left her only one direction to go. Her legs were stiff, difficult to control at first. "Come on, one foot in front of the other. Just keep moving." Slowly she made her way through the tunnel. She came to an opening, a light flickering in the distance had her heart racing. "Is someone there?" She tried to move faster.

' _Lethallan…'_ It was a warning, Rialla stopped just as she entered the room and saw what caused the shimmering light. A trio of despair demons, dancing around the room in what could only be described as excitement. She felt their darkness pulling on her immediately, her heart becoming a lead weight in her chest. _'Mala sulendin nadas, ma vhenan'_ She felt a hand touch her cheek, her eyes too heavy to open. "Nera…" She reached for her, her hand outstretched as she desperately tried to hold onto the presence. Her eyes shot open as the mark surged to life, pulling the fade open just above her…and effectively swallowing the demons as it closed. All around her the snow had melted, a warmth filling her from within. "I will endure…" She forced herself to her feet and once again started walking.

It had been hours, days, or maybe just minutes. She couldn't tell in the dark. The icy wind tore at her skin, tried to force her to the ground. She pushed on, feeling she was on the right track after finding a cold campfire. It hadn't been there long, the snow would have buried it. As she made her way up the side of the mountain she could feel the wind dying down but the air was colder, it was hard to breathe so high up. She stumbled a few times, refusing to let herself fall. As she left the cover of the trees she saw another campfire, this one was warm. They'd left hours ago, but she was gaining ground…and she was near the top of this infernal mountain.

She stood, her mouth hung open in a mix between sheer delight and an almost irrepressible urge to cry. She heard someone shouting, the sounds were getting further away but she didn't care. She could finally sleep, now that she'd found them.

 **OoOoOoO**

She had been warm, heavy blankets wrapped around her and her clothing dry. She idly wondered who had taken her armor off, too exhausted to be concerned over modesty. As the world seemed to come rushing back she could hear shouting, arguing over who would lead the group and where they should go. No one could agree. She groaned, her headache coming back with a vengeance.

"You were hurt, we found you. You won't hurt for long." That creepy boy was hovering over her like a pale eyed vulture. Startled, she jumped up, spilling a pitcher of water beside her.

"Cole!" An accented voice that could only belong to Solas reprimanded the boy. "You must give others space, we spoke of this. It is unkind to be intrusive." He intoned gently, ushering the boy to another corner. "You _were_ injured, and if not for Cole and his unnerving ability to get into the minds of others, we might not have known to look for you when you came back. Your return itself being something of a miracle." He gave her a small smirk.

"How long have they been shouting at each other?" Rialla rubbed her temple, hissing as she touched the injury above her eye.

"Hours, though they have that luxury thanks to you." Mother Giselle stood at the foot of the cot, smiling down at her.

"Maybe I should help."

"Another voice shouting at the chaos will not unmake the chaos." Solas tried to dissuade her, more for her physical health than anything.

"We have to pull ourselves together, get far away from that monster as soon as we can." Rialla pulled herself to her feet. "Creators, how are we supposed to stop an ancient darkspawn…magister?"

"Andraste has blessed you, child." Solas narrowed his eyes at Mother Giselle, but said nothing as she continued. "You have stopped him at every turn, bested him in combat and stolen victory from him twice. You are a symbol of hope, and divine inspiration."

"There was nothing _divine_ about Haven, or Redcliffe. I'm not sure if it was luck or a curse. Not even the Gods I do believe in answer my prayers, now I'm the herald to a woman I couldn't have less in common with! This isn't _**divinity**_ this is **HELL**!" Rialla growled, slamming her fist into one of the poles holding the tent up. "There is no Maker…there is no hope…" She blinked away tears as she sucked in a breath to go and face the advisors.

' _Shadows fall and hope has fled  
Steel your heart  
The Dawn will come.._

Rialla stopped walking, turning back to look at Mother Giselle. Not sure what she hoped to accomplish, Rialla was compelled to listen.

 _The night is long and the path is dark  
Look to the sky, for one day soon  
The Dawn will come…_

It took her a moment to realize that everyone in the camp had fallen silent as the Revered Mother began singing. Josephine let her head rest on Leliana's shoulder as the bard started the next verse.

 _The Shepard's lost and his Home is far,  
Keep to the stars,  
The Dawn will come_

Rialla watched in a sort of paralyzed fascination as soldiers, refugees, even the damn blacksmith started singing and walking toward her. She caught Cullen's eye, noting the subtle curl of a smile at the corner of his lips, surprising her even more when he joined in the song.

 _The Night is long and the Path is dark_

 _Look to the sky, For one day soon  
The Dawn will come_

Rialla felt the tears falling down her cheeks, the gnawing fear in her gut seemingly placated for the time being. She'd never felt the elven God's presence, but she felt this. Whether a byproduct of the outpouring of emotion or some genuine connection to a superior force…she felt it.

 _Bare your Blade and raise it high  
Stand your ground  
The Dawn will Come_

 _The Night is long and the Path is dark  
Look to the sky, for one day soon  
The Dawn will Come_

Rialla struggled to breath, taken aback by the show of faith. Everyone knelt before her, raising her up to be _their_ prophet, their savior.

"You may struggle with your faith, Rialla…but look at what you've inspired in _them_." Giselle gently lifted her chin to look her in the eye. "Do not lose your way in the shadows of doubt, child. You must endure if we are to succeed." Rialla's eyes snapped to hers. It felt like a memory, a dream from long ago, and yet so close she could swear Nerathiel was speaking to her.

 _Mala sulendi nadas._

Solas appeared at her side a moment later. "A word, if I may?" He sounded worried, if she'd gauged this right. She followed him to a small brazier, glowing with blue flame. "The artifact Corypheus has, it's elven."

Rialla nodded, mulling it over in her head. "How is that even possible? Most elven artifacts are in pieces, this orb is perfect…well, it's chipped, but other than that perfect." She shrugged.

"Chipped?" Solas shook his head.

"Yeah…how do you know it's elven? Are you sure it isn't some old Tevinter ball?" Rialla shrugged back.

"I've seen them, they're called Foci and are used to harness immense power. He should _not_ have been able to open it, much less continue to wield it." He glared hard at the flame.

Rialla suddenly realized what he meant, though to her credit she had just woken up from a month long hike, up a mountain in a blizzard, with a concussion. Foggy should be acceptable for anyone at this point. "Oh…well, shit." She rubbed the bridge of her nose. "So what do you think we should do? How do we keep this from putting more elves at risk?" Solas turned thoughtful.

"I hadn't thought your first concern would be our kind." He gave her the barest of smiles.

"They are _my_ kind too, in every way that ever mattered to me." She bit back, frowning at the unintentional harshness of her tone. "Sorry, I meant no disrespect."

Solas waved her off. "I forget you were raised Dalish, you do not bear the markings…or the ears." He cocked his head to one side.

"You know why." She gave him a scowl.

"Apologies, I can see that would be a difficult subject." He turned back to the blue fire. "I can help get these people to safety." He said after a long pause. "Lead them North, there is a place that sits and waits for one to hold it. It is Skyhold, though it's true name has been lost to the ages. A very old and very strong fortress…perfect for an Inquisition." He smiled then, casting his hopeful radiance her way. Rialla felt her breath catch in her throat, he looked so youthful then, happy. If the wisest among them had faith, and the most resistant to the belief of Andraste found her captivating…perhaps she could be the symbol they needed.


	7. Winter Palace

**Still don't own it. Shortened Winter Palace.**

Skyhold was as impressive as Solas had proclaimed. It had taken several days to arrive, though without difficulty. A bulk of the forces began to immediately set up barracks at the base of the trail leading up to the fortress. Others began taking food and supplies to the top. Dennet took the horses to the stables, more than pleased at the size of the pasture available to those who were used by the Rialla and her core group. Below, a massive pasture had been hastily put together to keep the animals together.

As Rialla stood before stairs that led to the main entrance Cassandra approached. "I can hardly believe we made it." She murmured. Rialla nodded silently. "We now know what we face, our enemy is beyond even our worst imagining." She frowned. "But we now know what allowed you to stand before him."

Rialla slowly turned to Cassandra, the image of Haven being crushed by the avalanche, mages killing one another for their blood, seeing Leliana die. "I refuse to let that creature succeed. By standing against him I have drawn his wrath."

"You have proven yourself to be his rival, he cannot ignore the threat that you pose." She led Rialla to where Leliana stood. "The Inquisition needs a leader…the one who has _already_ been leading it. Through your choices, decisions, we have our lives."

"You mean for me to be 'Inquisitor'?" Rialla looked stunned. Leliana held a sword aloft, head bowed to her.

"I admit that handing this much power to anyone person is…unnerving." Cassandra's stern expression softened as she turned to Rialla. "I believe you are our only hope. We all owe you our lives, and with that you have my allegiance."

Rialla took a tentative step toward Leliana, taking the blade. "We must stop Corypheus…he cannot be allowed to complete his quest for Godhood. He cannot be allowed to hurt anyone else. We _will_ stop him."

"Have our people been told?" Leliana called down to Josephine.

"Yes…and soon the world!" She called back.

"Will they follow?" She turned her gaze to Cullen.

"Will you follow?" The crowd roared back, thrusting their fists in the air. "Will you fight?" They cheered again. "Will we triumph?!" The sound was deafening. "I give you _your_ INQUISITOR!" Rialla was taken by the moment, she could feel their voices reverberating in her chest, her pulse quickened and she thrust the sword into the air. _'We will fight, and we will win'_ she smiled to herself.

 **OoOoOoO**

"Inquisitor, huh? Quite the leap from 'Most hated woman in Thedas'." Varric chuckled at his little joke, sipping his ale. Rialla shook her head with a rueful smile.

"You're the big cheese, then?" Sera gave her a mischievous grin. "Don't forget your 'friends', yeah?" She sat cross legged on the bench, her back against Bull.

"Congrats, boss. I think you'll do great...you have so far." Iron Bull heafted his mug and the Chargers cheered.

"It's all so surreal." Rialla half whispered to her wine, taking a slow drink. "I wish Nera could see me now, she'd have loved this place." She cast a glance over Varric, Bull, Sera, and Blackwall. "She'd have loved all of you, especially Varric. She was such a daydreamer." Her smile fell slightly.

"To the Dreamer." Sera said in an uncharacteristically solemn tone. Everyone took a drink. Varric cocked an eyebrow in question at her.

Rialla sat back listening to Maryden sing as another round of drinks found their way to their table. Dorian sauntered in with a playful frown and muttered something about her starting without him.

"Of _course_ Dorian is put out. I'm surprised you would even entertain this little tavern." Cassandra chuckled behind him. She took a seat beside Varric, taking the proffered drink with a small nod of thanks. "You spend more time admiring your own reflection than Cullen does recalibrating trebuchet's!"

The table erupted into laughter. "Maker's breath, he really doesn't have any hobbies!" Varric said with a laugh.

"Indeed, I believe he's out there now." Blackwall took a seat beside Bull. "Inquisitor, is it?" Rialla blushed at the older man and nodded.

"So no one opposed this?" She turned to Cassandra. "I mean, a few months ago I was a murderer." Cassandra shrugged in response. Rialla rolled her eyes, a smile curving her lips up.

"Issall good, your Inquisitiveness. You got leader stuffs in you, like dropping mountains on Coriphy-spit." She smirked. Bull nodded in agreement.

"She's not entirely crazy there." Dorian snorted at that, earning a jab in the ribs from Cassandra, followed by him pouting.

"I appreciate it, really. I'm just a little overwhelmed is all. It's a lot to take in all at once, you know? I have to save...everyone. I don't even know where to start, who to ask for help, or...anything. I don't know _anything_ about being a leader." Rialla downed her drink and poured another, drinking it down quickly. "I'm going to hate life tomorrow." She mumbled.

They talked until the early hours of morning, getting to know one another and telling stories of their adventures leading them to the Inquisition and Rialla. Maryden sang a song that unnerved Sera to the point she threatened to throw bee's at her. Dorian told them about Tevinter and the different ways magic and mages were viewed. Rialla was surprised that he was for control and fairness, maybe not a fan of circles as they were but for restraint. Toward the end of the evening Varric spun a story about the deep roads and the adventures of a certain blond mage.

Dorian walked Rialla back to the fortress in companionable silence. As they neared the turn where he'd leave for his room he turned to her. "You do not have the bearing of a tyrant, nor are you overly timid. For what it's worth, I'm glad they chose you." Rialla started at his sudden serious tone.

"Th-thank you, Dorian." Rialla began to fidget beneath his stare, unsure what to do with such high praise she simply turned to leave. "I hope I don't disappoint anyone."

"You will. You simply cannot make _everyone_ happy. Accept that some will be displeased and move on. Stay true to your goals, true to your promise to rid the world of Corypheus and all will be as it should." Rialla watched him over her shoulder with a wary smile. "You know I'm right, I am _always_ right." His self assured smirk slid back into place.

Rialla nodded and continued up to her room. The hallways were warm, Josephine had said the building had a hot spring beneath it and somehow the water had been piped through the walls. She made her way to her bed, stripping away her clothing in favor of a long shirt to sleep in. She burrowed into the blankets, drifting off almost as soon as her head hit the pillow.

The nightmare that followed left her shaking and weak, covered in a cold sweat. Her breathing came in ragged gasps and she struggled to reorient herself.

 _I'm in Skyhold. I'm not dead. No one is dead..._ She glanced at her arm. Still there, and with the mark. For once she was glad of it. In the nightmares her arm was gone, a jagged and bloody stump. She dressed quickly and made her way down to the Garden. After a quick discussion with Mother Giselle and Cullen, it was decided to dedicate the Garden to Andraste and the Chantry, placing a small statue in a vestibule for anyone who wished to pray.

Rialla sat cross legged before the statue of Andraste, wondering if she could do the same. If she could be so self sacrificing, or would her selfish desire to live get in the way? She'd been lost in thought and failed to notice anyone approach.

Cullen had been startled awake by a nightmare of his own, and after several minutes of trying to regain his composure he had opted to go and visit the Garden. Rialla had surprised everyone by taking his and Mother Giselle's suggestion to heart. She had made it a sanctuary for anyone who wanted to be there, including adding a small chapel for the faithful to offer prayer.

He hadn't considered that anyone might be awake at this hour. It was still twilight, the sun hadn't come up over the mountains, and the ground was white with frost. He left his armor in his quarters, wearing the heavy cloak and warmer clothing to compensate. Head down, he entered the chapel. She sat before Andraste, her ashen hair falling loose behind her. Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears and it looked as though she was speaking to the statue. Not wanting to interrupt her personal moment he abruptly turned to leave.

He turned and accidentally kicked a chain to some chandelier that had fallen from the ceiling. The noise startled her and she let out a squeak of fright.

"I'm so sorry, Inquisitor! I had no intention of inter-I was just-I'm sorry..." He rubbed his neck, cheeks stained pink in embarrassment.

Rialla smiled, drying her eyes with the back of her hand, she stood and walked over to him. Cullen continued to shift from foot to foot, looking everywhere but at her. It seemed silly, they'd spent quite a bit of time together since he first stayed and watched her sleep. She had made a game out of making him blush, which was rather easy if she talked about him. She'd brought up his 'vows' and earned a flustered blush and a quick demand to change topics, she made several comments about his physical prowess, and she had a habit of staring at his lips.

"It's alright, Commander." She stopped less than a foot away, smiling sadly up at him. "Did you have a nightmare?" He nodded. "Me too." She leaned in, her forehead pressed against his chest, slowly he brought his arms up to hold her. They stood in silence, both staring up at the statue of Andraste.

 **OoOoOoO**

Days spanned into weeks, and months all blurring together. With each trip she returned with more soldiers, each time she returned she felt less like the person she had been before she left for the Conclave. She no longer spoke in Dalish, mumbled curses she'd heard from Sera and Bull, and even though she hadn't forgotten where she came from…she began to forget their faces. She couldn't remember what color Nerathiel's eyes were, what her voice sounded like, the songs her mother used to sing, or what it felt like to walk barefoot in the woods. That way of life was gone.

She stood on the balcony, overlooking the vast mountain range capped in snow. She was now a warrior, a symbol for more than elves…she stood for all.

Her last trip out had led them to the Exalted Plains and a civil war being fought right under the Empress' nose. She'd managed to stop most of the infighting, bringing several groups of deserters to heel. By not taking a side she'd somehow earned the respect of several of both Gaspard and Celene's top lieutenants, as well as the gratitude of those caught in the middle.

The door to her room opened and closed, Cassandra making her way to retrieve her. "It's time."

Rialla sighed, turning to the warrior. "Alright, let's go." She followed her to the war room. Cullen, Leliana, and Josephine already discussing the best approach to the Winter Palace.

"Inquisitor." They seemed to speak in unison. She still wasn't used to the title, and despite all her begging they refused to simply use her name. 'Your Worship' was the worst of them, she couldn't stand 'worship'.

"What do we have?" Rialla leaned heavily on the table.

Leliana handed her a few documents. "We've managed to secure an invitation from Gaspard himself. He seems to believe that having you on his side will ensure you place him on the throne."

"I couldn't care less about him, or his desire for the throne." She grumbled bitterly. "By accepting his invitation I will be giving credence to his claim."

"Not necessarily." Josephine explained her plan, and the hope that Rialla would be able to play the Great Game. "I believe we can use it against him, uncover the Venatori agent, and still help Celene hold her claim to the throne."

"I'm going to just trust you on that." Rialla ran a hand through her hair, loose ashen locks hanging over her shoulder and down her back. "We leave as soon as Leliana's agents are ready." With that Rialla left the room. She was exhausted, all the long treks back and forth between Skyhold and Orlais had left her tired, sore, and more than a little despondent.

She walked along the battlements, taking in the clean mountain air and unsurpassable beauty of the mountain range before her. Tiny fires littered the training grounds far below the fortress where the bulk of the military force trained.

"You can almost forget there is even a war when you're up here." Cullen stood behind her, the metal of his armor hardly making a sound. She smiled, turning toward him. Since the fight with Corypheus and her narrow escape at Haven, he'd hardly left her side. _'I will not, cannot, ever let what happened at Haven happen again. I-we- could have lost you'_ his words running in a constant loop at the back of her mind. _'I cannot lose you'_.

"I wish these moments would last longer." She admitted sadly, still smiling. He nodded, rubbing the back of his neck with a sigh. "Can I ask you something?" The long nights spent formulating strategies often turned to more personal matters, Templar training and Dalish customs.

His eyes shot up to hers. "Anything." He answered quickly, looking hopeful. He couldn't admit it to her, but he cherished the little moments they had to themselves.

"Did you leave anyone behind? I mean, when you left Kinloch and went to Kirkwall, was there ever…" Rialla suddenly felt embarrassed, her cheeks became hot and she glanced away.

"No, there was no one." He took a fraction of a step closer.

"I wondered, sorry for my imprudent-"

"What about you?" He cut her off with a small smile.

"Uh…no. I never really found anything that could hold my attention for long." She met his gaze, feeling suddenly emboldened by the conversation. "You, however…" She never finished. Cullen saw his opening and took it. He kissed her, deeply. She moaned softly into him, her hands fisting into the material of his cloak. He pulled away with a bashful grin.

He was about to say something when one of his soldiers approached. "Leliana's report, Commander." Rialla slowly released her hold and let her hands fall to her side, her mind still in shock.

"Thank you." He whispered before turning to the soldier behind him.

She couldn't shake the moment from her mind. She'd been so lost in thought she'd not realized they'd arrived at the Winter Palace, Cullen grumbling to Josephine about how much he hated the Orlesian sport.

"I'm sure that's not _all_ you dislike, Commander." She gave him a wink as they made their way to the entrance. Rialla glanced back to see women throwing flowers at the Commander, his eyes focused hard on some point ahead of him. Leliana happened a glance at him and laughed, mumbling something placating to him and earning a vicious glare. She smiled and gave his arm a pat.

Upon meeting Gaspard, Rialla had her doubts. He didn't strike her as someone trying to kill anyone, not outright. He had even been forth coming about having his own men at the 'party'. Tonight would take all of her focus, which she now struggled with the simple task of listening to the man.

Gaspard led her in, chuckling as they announced her as Inquisitor Levellan, when talking with Josephine she'd forgotten she told her that the elves went by a 'clan name'. Josephine, however, never forgot anything. Cassandra was behind her, snapping at the poor man. It was a rather long name. Dorian and Varric entered and immediately found themselves drinks. Dorian couldn't have been more at home in the Palace, Varric did an excellent job of hiding in plain sight.

Rialla socialized, smiling at nobles and entertaining them with tales of her many travels. She found Josephine with her sister, enjoying putting her ambassador on the spot. Judging by the way she smiled, though, Josephine enjoyed it just as much. Leliana made odd observations about shoes and clothing, noting that one woman with shoes so laden with jewel embellishments she could hardly walk in them had, until very recently, been impoverished. Leliana made it her personal mission to find out what had changed the woman's financial status…and how she could use it against her.

When she finally slipped away, Rialla had found a murdered agent, a man with a Chalon knife in his back, and an elf being attacked by a court jester. Each clue incriminating someone else.

"How goes the night?" Cullen whispered to Rialla.

"They're all guilty." She grumbled, sipping her wine. "I have one last lead to consider. The court mage, Morrigan, has suggested I turn my gaze to those closest to the Empress. Gaspard has been forth coming, Brialla offered her services as a Spy Master…but _her_ I don't know anything about." She inclined her head just slightly toward The Grand Duchess Florian. Cullen nodded in response. She made her way past the dance floor only to have The Grand Duchess herself snag her arm.

"I hear you've been very busy, my lady." She sounded giddy, almost excited to be speaking to Rialla.

"Indeed, this has been an entertaining evening." She bowed to the Grand Duchess.

"I believe our goals to be the same. I am worried for my cousin, Celene." She spoke softer now, with those damned masks it was hard to _see_ anyone. Rialla never could trust what was spoken, you had to see their eyes to know if they were honest. She thought it odd that the Grand Duchess referred to the Empress so casually.

"Is that so, your grace?" She offered a smile, accepting the other woman's hand.

"Dance with me, we may speak freely away from listening ears." Florian didn't wait for a response and led her to the dancefloor.

She was a superb dance partner, leading Rialla through the waltz. Florian revealed her brother's guard captain, a mercenary leader by the name of Martin, waiting with his hired swords to storm the Palace as Celene gave her speech. At the end of their dance, Rialla had a sinking feeling settling in the pit of her stomach.

"What in the Maker's name just happened?" Cullen rushed to her first, Leliana demanding to know what Florian said, while Josephine covered their anxious whispers with a convincing laugh.

"I have to go find this man, Martin. He's in the Garden." She frowned. "Leliana, see to it that Morrigan is not separated from the Empress."

Leliana smiled and bowed, making her way toward Celene's ladies in waiting. "Josephine, keep an eye on Gaspard. Cullen, try not to get married before I get back." Josephine let out an undignified snort at Rialla's joke, Cullen groaned and rolled his eyes.

"Go, _your worship_." He bowed and sauntered away with a wry smirk, leaving Josephine giggling by herself. Rialla smirked at him as he vanished into the crowd.

When she finally found Martin, he was tied to a stake in the Empress' courtyard. A massive rift waiting to be opened. Rialla heard the woman laugh, confirming her suspicions when she glanced up to Florian.

"You fell into my trap, dear Inquisitor. It wasn't even one of my better ones. I'm truly surprised you hadn't seen through it sooner." Florian cocked her head to one side, Rialla could imagine her trying to feign a thoughtful expression. "No matter, my master will be pleased I've detained you long enough for my agents to kill that damnable woman."

"I'm sorry, I really must be missing some key part of your plan." Rialla irritably rubbed the bridge of her nose. Cassandra and Varric exchanged confused glances and looked toward Dorian, who shrugged. "How is handing Orlais over to Gaspard, or Brialla for that matter, any different than leaving Celene alone?"

"Who said I'd leave it to them? The Elder One has plans, my lady. Plans you won't see come to fruition, I'm afraid." She made to bow. "Killing you will be a bonus, though if the Empress dies before you get back to the dancefloor, well then that would be a shame. It would be rather difficult, I think, to run an Inquisition when you're implicated in the assassination of the Empress of Orlais." Rialla officially hated Orlais and their masks.

"Well, wouldn't want to keep you." Rialla bowed, her eyes glinting like daggers in the darkness. She glanced at the rift, thrusting her hand up to it. A bolt of green energy shot out, tearing the rift open. "If you stay, I can kill you right here and spare you any embarrassment." Florian's mouth formed a frown. She huffed and stormed off, yelling that one of the Venatori better cut Rialla's arm off, a gift for the Elder One.

Between Cassandra and Varric, the living agents didn't stand a chance. It only took a moment for Rialla and Dorian to stop the handful of demons that fell through the rift, and to close it before more came through. Varric untied Martin, who stated Gaspard had actually been the one to tie him up out there, Florian had watched him do it.

"He said I charged too much for my mercenaries, but to _kill_ me over it!" The man looked pale, shaken from the battle he had been witness to.

"You think he tried to kill you over… _money?_ " Rialla couldn't help the sneer in her tone. "His sister opened a rift into the fade and attempted to flood the courtyard with demons, I sincerely doubt that he was the mastermind behind this…" She gestured to the dead agents.

"Well…no, I suppose not." He scratched his head thoughtfully.

"Go find Commander Cullen, we will hire your men for the same price, and we won't kill you." Martin chuckled at that, shaking her hand. "We could use all the skilled soldiers we can find."

"Strange bargain but I'll take it."

Rialla and the others sprinted back toward the ballroom, taking down two more assassins on their way.

Florian walked arm in arm with Gaspard toward the ballroom floor when the doors to the garden burst open. Cullen and Leliana stood beside Rialla, who smiled menacingly down at Florian.

"The men are in position; we await your order." Cullen whispered to her.

"Have them wait a moment, I need to speak to the Grand Duchess one last time…" Rialla stalked over to her, calling her name. "Won't you save me one last dance, Your _Grace_?" She sneered at the vile woman. "Before you go and assassinate Celene, that is." The revelation stopped the crowd's murmuring. "You killed that envoy, Brialla's servants, and tried to kill Gaspard's soldiers. What was it you said, killing me would only be a bonus…you just needed to kill Celene?" Florian floundered, stuttering and stumbling over her words.

Celene was furious, ordering the woman out of sight. Rialla suggested they speak somewhere less open to the public.

Gaspard railed Brialla, claiming she must have known what was going on. Brialla returned the insult, how could he not have known his own sister was planning a coup?!

"Shut. Up." Rialla growled out at the two of them. "I have plenty of evidence damning the both of you." She shot angry glares between them. "I can't believe the sheer number of fucking volunteers to kill an Empress. No bloody loyalty!" She threw her hands up in the air.

Celene stood by, listening quietly to the arguments. Leliana had delivered the evidence now in question to Morrigan. Being the only person allowed at the Empress' side, she had been able to give her ample warning.

"Conspiracy and murderous plots come as naturally to Orlesian's as breathing." Gaspard stated, sounding rather bored.

"It's insane! Deserters from both sides have joined together and are killing innocent people in the streets." Rialla glared hard at Gaspard. "Your men _and_ hers." She jabbed a finger into his chest for emphasis. "If either of you morons cared as much about the people of Orlais as the Empress…you'd bloody _be_ Empress!" A gentle hand on her shoulder settled Rialla.

"My cousin is right about this, in part. The Great Game ends only with a death, typically your own." She bowed her head, smiling. "Gaspard, you have committed treason." She sounded a little unsure of herself. "I am forced…I cannot let you keep your life knowing you would come for mine."

Love, of course it was love. How could the Empress be immune to _every_ emotion? Simple, she wasn't. Being in her position, however, did not afford her even that luxury. When you can't even trust your own shadow, you can scarely count on the bond of family. Of course, she loved her cousin. Josephine had explained that Gaspard and Celene had been very close as children, even up into their late teens. Rialla felt a sudden pang of sorrow for the woman. Could she have killed one of her own if placed in the same situation? She tried to imagine one of the hunters standing where Gaspard stood. She was exceedingly grateful she didn't have to make that choice tonight.

Brialla accepted her exile with grace. She bowed and left, saying nothing to her former lover. In the end, Celene stood alone. A fact that mirrored Rialla's own possible future. Would she be alone? Would her advisors try to kill her? What made her so different from Celene that she was targeted so easily?

Rialla excused herself to get some fresh air, standing alone on a balcony with her thoughts. "I am impressed, Rialla." A voice called out behind her. It was a Ferelden woman, her voice held an air of mystery and allure.

"Finally, a friendly face." Rialla extended a hand in greeting, which the other woman readily accepted. "How's the Empress holding up?"

"You're too kind. Celene is as she always has been, alone. She is a remarkable woman, her strength as limitless as her compassionate heart." Morrigan ended with a little chuckle. "She isn't as delicate as some may believe, Inquisitor."

"Honestly, I'm relieved. I don't think I would survive in her position, those are hard decisions one should not take lightly, and it's clear she certainly doesn't. How do you survive never trusting anyone?" Rialla turned back to the balcony.

"Inquisitor, you are in the very same position. Do you not make life altering judgements from your own throne? Have you not sentenced others? Believe me, there are things worse than death." Morrigan stood beside her at the balcony.

"It feels…different." She shrugged, unsure of how to put her thoughts to words.

"Speaking of trust, she has asked me to assist your Inquisition. I am well versed in magic and I have an exceptional depth of knowledge I will make readily available to you, if you allow it." Rialla turned slowly to the smiling witch.

"I would be honored, but is that what _you_ want?" Morrigan nodded with a subtle smile. "Then I happily accept your offer and look forward to working with you."

"I shall gather my things and make my way to Skyhold, my lady." She bowed and left. Rialla had turned her back to the party once more, not noticing anyone approach.

"Tonight seems to have been a success." She loved the deep timbre of his voice. She turned slowly, smiling. She wouldn't have made it this far without him. Her nightmares had become less difficult, he listened to her when she worried, and taught her what it meant to be Andrastian.

"Yes, it really was." She let out a breath. He walked over to stand beside her. "I can't believe we managed to save her."

"You did remarkable." He gave her a lopsided grin and her heart did a flip. "I realize now that it was completely silly for me to have worried about you." He brought a hand to the small of her back, giving her a reassuring smile. "You never cease to amaze me." Rialla chuckled, resting her head against his shoulder. Suddenly he pulled back, startling her.

"Wha-?" She turned to see him grinning mischievously at her.

"I doubt I'll have another chance to ask you this but…may I have this dance?" He held out a hand, the corners mouth tipping up in bashful smirk.

The music was faint, she didn't care. He had her in his arms and the rest of the world ceased to impress her. There were a few stumbles, toes stepped on, and laughing until her sides hurt. As the music faded completely away he pulled her in and pressed his lips to hers in a tentative kiss. Her heart fluttered about her chest like a butterfly.

She couldn't stop smiling on the return trip to Skyhold, enduring Leliana and Cassandra's jokes about her being 'love struck'.

 **OoOoOoO**

Sera had been unusually quiet since she returned. Bull had suggested Rialla go and see her, and now she stood before the door to her room as knives slammed into the door, Sera cursing the Empress, Brialla, and 'Coryphispit'.

"I'm going to open this door…please don't skewer me." Rialla tapped the door before opening it.

"You let her keep her stupid throne, I mean it's all good…but it isn't. She was just as bad, used them just the same." Sera balanced a dagger on one finger, the blade tip making a small dent in the tip of her finger. "As long as there's a butt for the throne, eh? Might be a pretty one, but still..." Her eyes fell, she'd lost two of her 'friends' in the scuffle.

Rialla stared for a moment, forgetting that Sera painted herself to be a brash, mouthy, and opinionated rouge. She saw her now, mourning the loss of her people…as she would say it 'not elves, _people_ people' and now Rialla understood. Leliana took a more detached approach to her network where Sera's identified itself as one person. Sera had given strength to a people who never had a name. Losing them was like losing a piece of herself, she mourned because they were all worth mourning.

"I am sorry about your friends. Honestly, it was a tough decision. They all wanted Celene dead, but even the servants seemed to believe she's the only one standing up for them." Rialla shook her head. "What would you have done differently?" She cocked her head to the side, glancing at Sera.

For a moment she could see anger flash across her face, slowly changing to a thoughtful frown. "I dunno, lock the doors and toss in some bee's." She gave her a half smile and a shrug.

"Or earwigs!" Rialla grinned.

"Oh, gross, right? Pinchy butts!" Sera burst out in giggles. "I think you did alright. You stood up for them, more than anyone else would." She smiled down at her daggers. "I'm not upset at you, just…upset."

Rialla nodded, she felt the very same. "I know. I think we're all feeling that way."

Sera suddenly sprang to her feet. "We need drinks, and cards, and more drinks!" She darted out of the room, yelling down to Iron Bull that they needed to drink. He, and his Chargers, cheered in response. Even Cabbot smiled. Krem and Harding went and gathered the others. Rialla was shocked to see Solas partake, more shocked to see Blackwall flirting with Josephine…and did Dorian willingly sit beside Bull?

"Sera may be crazy, but she is certainly _our_ kind of crazy." Cullen mumbled to Varric as they walked into the Tavern.

By the time she made it back to her room, Rialla was left feeling a little lighter. She laughed, played cards, and had finally enjoyed herself. It was nice to see that they could still let their proverbial hair down when they needed to. Seeing Josephine drink Sera under the table had been a highlight, followed by Dorian dancing with Rialla, Iron Bull tossing Varric, and Cabbot doing a jig on the table while Leliana sang. Cullen and Cole played chess, and Solas sat back taking it all in, a mysterious little smile at the corners of his mouth. Vivienne had stopped by in the midst of Bull tossing Varric and with a huff and a smirk, returned to her work.

"NO ONE TOSSES THE DWARF!" Varric had shouted after landing in a graceless heap at Vivienne's feet. This sent everyone into peels of laughter.

Sera had the right idea, and Rialla had to admit it was a great night.


	8. Lyrium and Lust

**A/N: This one has...well, if you're easily offended by either bad writing or sex this may not be the story or chapter for you. If not...well have at. I own nothing, still. I'll let someone know if that changes.**

Following the events at the Winter Palace, judging Florian…and sentencing her to 'common work with common folk', Rialla and the rest of the Inquisition had earned a small reprieve from the constant rush to put out one fire or another. They had time to recoup and regroup.

She'd been out getting some fresh air and checking on the status of a few requisitions she'd made earlier that week, and made her way to Cullen's office. A scout standing there announced he was with the Seeker. Curiosity peaked, Rialla went to find Cassandra. When she wasn't practicing against the dummies, or reading in the garden, she found them in the smith. Cullen glaring at the ground and Cassandra railing at him for making such an irresponsible decision.

Cullen was standing beside Cassandra, shaking and angry. She couldn't hear their voices from as far away as she was, but she got the distinct feeling he was hoping to be alone. She watched, slowing her pace so as not to intrude. Cassandra placed a reassuring hand on his arm, saying something with that stern 'I-said-so' look. Cullen nodded and glanced behind him, catching Rialla's eye. With a curt nod, he left, walking briskly past her and mumbling an apology as he went.

"Is he ok?" She asked Cassandra, who shook her head in the negative.

"I think you should talk to him, he's stubborn to a fault when it comes to this, of that I can say no more. It is his personal plight; he would prefer to be the one to share it." Cassandra turned toward the workshop, her shoulders drooping slightly.

Rialla glanced up toward the Commander's office, watching as he entered and one of Leliana's messengers and two soldier came darting out. Glancing back toward where Cassandra now stood she decided to wait on the requisition and go check on her friend. On her way up the stairs, one of his lieutenants tried to talk her out of going to see him 'he's in a foul mood, milady'. As she opened the door to his office a wooden box flew just past her face, smashing into the door beside her.

"Maker's breath! I didn't see you there, I'm so sorry." Cullen gaped in shock. "I-I wouldn't…if I'd known…I'm sorry." He stuttered, she wasn't sure if it was her staring at him or the fact that he'd almost hit her in the head that had him stumbling over his words.

"It's alright, Cullen." She mumbled with a laugh. "At least you missed." He smirked at that. "Cassandra sent me to check on you."

Cullen's face fell and his shoulders slumped in defeat. "Did I tell you how Templar get their abilities?"

She shook her head in the negative. "I remember you telling me about their vows, some of their rituals, I didn't think anything of the abilities other than maybe some could and some could not." Cullen shook his head.

"In a sense, the lyrium increases the ability, makes it so we _can_ control magic...or mages. When you take your final vows, becoming a Templar, you get your first draft of lyrium. The first link in a chain that permanently binds you to your sacred duty." He glared at the shattered remains of the lyrium vial and glass beside the door. "The Circle tower in Ferelden was overtaken by abominations. I saw my friends, fellow Templar, slaughtered. Some mages were forced into becoming the creatures, some fought back…most died. I was tortured, those _things_ tried to break my mind." He trailed off, rubbing his temples. "The Hero of Ferelden saved the circle, and the mages. I left Ferelden then, and I continued to serve. I _wanted_ to. I was sent to Kirkwall, to their circle. It was strict, Meredith ruled with an iron fist and for some time I felt comfortable. She turned mad, she began giving the Templar knights there red lyrium, twisting their minds. The Chantry was destroyed by a mage and it started the rebellion there. She called for the Right of Annulment and enacted it without authority. The mages turned to blood magic in desperation. Hawke and I saved who we could and we eventually killed Meredith." Rialla approached him, standing across from his desk. "I haven't taken the lyrium since I joined, which can cause madness, or even death. But, you can see why I chose not to, can't you? I no longer want that life, I chose the Inquisition, I chose to _leave_ the Templar behind."

"That sounds…horrifying, Cullen." She whispered, gently placing a hand over his.

"We now have steady and reliable sources of Lyrium for the Templar here; I should be taking it but…" He nodded to the box.

"So you stopped it, just like that?" He nodded. "How do you feel? Can I help you?" Cullen slowly met her gaze.

"You shouldn't be treating this so...I should be taking it, I'm far too distracted. I chose this life and now I'm putting you at risk!" He punched the desk hard. "I should be taking it!"

Rialla gently squeezed his hand. "Don't." She said simply. He looked questioningly at her. "Tell me, what do _you_ want?"

Cullen frowned at her hand over his, considering her question. "I wish to be free of the addiction." He spoke softly, closing his eyes as he clenched his fist. "But you cannot afford distraction from your Commander. If I cannot endure, you must-"

Rialla brought her hand up to her cheek. "The lyrium was killing you, slowly it would take your mind. If you've decided to break your chains, then you must stand by that decision." He leaned into her touch. She leaned in toward him, her voice just above a whisper. "You _can_ do this, Cullen."

He groaned irritably, pulling himself away from her. "I should not be placing you, of all people, in this position." He spat the words out like they were poison, glaring at the table. "I should take it." He sounded angry and defeated all at once.

Rialla impulsively grabbed his arm, stopping him as he turned for the door. "Cullen, no." He looked as shocked as she felt.

"You…you cannot understand the difficulty…" He started, staring wide eyed at her.

"No, I can't. But you do and you made this choice, you _can_ endure!" Not for the first time, he was taken aback by her determination and her steadfast resolve. He had no intention of putting her in any danger, he liked his withdraw even less as she started to show interest in him. He didn't know if he could be what she wanted, he didn't even want to ask it. But she stood before him, unmoving and furious. "I will be here; I will be with you. I cannot watch you die, not like that." He stared in open mouthed shock at her. Rialla met his gaze, her eyes softening as she took a deep breath. "I cannot lose you to _this_. Not now that I've just found you."

She watched as the realization of what she said sunk in. "Rialla, I'm…I didn't mean to-I didn't know…" He brought his hand up to her cheek and pulled it back suddenly. At her look of hurt, he smiled sheepishly and removed his glove. His hand felt incredibly warm against her skin and she was grateful of the minute gesture.

"You are more than you think, Cullen. You have more strength, compassion, and you…I am not so willing to see you compromise yourself for… _anything_." She stepped into his arms, feeling his entire body tense as she closed the small gap between them. "I'm not willing to lose _you_."

Cullen's heart raced, his mind reeling at her confession. When he'd kissed her on the ramparts it had been impulse, he stole it from her and refused to feel guilty, though by her own admission, she enjoyed it just as much. When they danced at Halamshiral, she'd returned his kiss and called him 'vhenan'. He soon found himself looking forward to her little visits, stolen kisses, little smiles, and the various ways she found to physically touch him throughout a day. As she returned his affections, the guilt began to grow. A broken man, failed Templar, and supposed commander of her army. "This must be a dream." He whispered, resting his forehead against hers. Rialla slowly lifted her eyes to his, deep green mirroring his own sadness. He'd sat with her, listened to her scream at the terrors that haunted her sleep…perhaps she knew better than most. He held her tighter, causing her to gasp in surprise. He inclined his head toward hers, hesitantly, pressing his lips against hers. She sighed softly, responding quickly to him. Her arms went around his neck, her hands wrapping themselves in his hair as she pulled him closer, deepening the kiss.

Cullen pulled back with a sharp intake of breath, his body trembling. He smiled, despite the pain he felt. He could endure, so long as she was at his side. "As you wish, milady." Rialla impulsively kissed him again, smiling as she kissed his lips, chin, and cheeks over and over.

"Thank you." She murmured, laughing as he pushed her back with a smile, mumbling she'd tickled him. "I'll come see you later, I'm sure you've work to do."

"I'd like that, Rialla." His smile made her heart skip a beat and he leaned over, kissing her forehead. "Thank you." His voice cracked and he turned from her to go and pick up broken box and clean up the spilled lyrium from the box he'd thrown.

She left him to work, opting to go and see Sera at the Tavern. She stayed well into the evening, Iron Bull delighting everyone with stories of his Chargers exploits, Varric spinning wild stories about Hawke and their adventures. Rialla finally excused herself for the night. She made her way toward the Commander's quarters, a candle still burned in the window which typically meant he was still working.

As she opened the wooden door, she quickly realized he'd simply forgotten to put the candle out. She blew the tiny flame out and made her way out. She heard a noise, a muffled groan and someone speaking. Curious she stayed to listen. She heard him clearly then, he was talking in his sleep. She climbed the stairs, hearing him tell his nightmare to leave him or kill him. When she got to the top she saw him tossing and turning, a sheen of sweat glistening over him, his face contorted in pain.

"Cullen…" She whispered as she approached. "Cullen?" She tried again, now closer. His struggle seemed to intensify as she got closer, until he was all but shouting. "CULLEN!" She grabbed him by the shoulders, leaning over him and shaking him awake. His eyes shot open but he didn't see her; he was still trapped in his nightmare. He growled, glaring fiercely at her, and roughly flipping her over onto her back. "Cullen, wake up!" She shouted, struggling hard against his grip. "It's me, Cullen" His eyes seemed to slowly clear as he blinked a few times, sudden realization dawning on him. "There you are…" His hold loosened and she brought her hand up to his cheek, wiping away a stray tear with her thumb. She pulled him down till his muscles stopped fighting and he lay above her. He buried his head in her hair against her neck and wrapped her tightly in his arms. She ran her fingers along his back and arms, trying to sooth him.

After a few minutes, he started to move, lifting himself up but not moving away from her. His eyes were unreadable as he regarded her. Rialla sucked in a nervous breath as she watched him. For a long while he said nothing and she was afraid to move, not willing to have whatever moment they were having shatter and have him crawl back into himself.

He leaned forward, hesitantly, until his nose brushed against hers. His lips were so close she could feel their warmth, his breath making her skin tingle. She fought down the urge to close the space between them, struggling hard to keep her body perfectly still beneath his.

His eyes locked onto hers, startlingly bright in the dim moonlight. "You came…" His voice was hoarse.

Her breath caught in her throat, heart constricting painfully at the desperate sound of his voice. Without thinking she gently traced his jawline, his stubble tickling her finger tips. He let out a soft sound as she brushed his hair back from his forehead.

He lowered his face to hers until their foreheads touched. "Vhenan." She whispered softly, placing one delicate hand against his cheek.

His lips touched hers, tentatively at first. She felt a shock go through her, desire mixed with excitement, and she couldn't stop the small whimper that escaped her as his tongue traced along her lower lip. He wrapped her into a vise like grip and captured her mouth completely, his tongue fully exploring every inch of her mouth.

She moaned, hungrily returning the kiss as she attempted to convey every emotion she could through one kiss. She wrapped her body around his, legs holding his waist and her arms around his neck, forgetting the world around them. His lips trailed lines of fire down her neck and back along her jawline. She sighed and whimpered, her nails dragging along his back and burying themselves in his hair. Reality returned and she let out a small gasp as his lips left hers, breathing heavy as he moved to the side.

Rialla closed her eyes, trying to regain control of her breathing. "Well…shit." She finally whispered, earning a chuckle from the shirtless man beside her.

Cullen moves to lay beside her, pulling her closer. "Stay?" It's a request…but somehow more, and Rialla knows then she will never be able to refuse him.

He held her close to him in a wordless attempt to ward off further nightmares. Her body curled to fit against his as she rested her head against his chest, listening to his breathing as it evened out. She smiled to herself, listening to the steady rhythm of his heart beat. She couldn't tell who drifted off first, she just knew that for the first time in a long while she wouldn't be plagued by her horrifying dreams.

The first rays of sunlight came pouring in through the damaged roof, the air had a cold bite to it. Instinctively she curled deeper into the warmth beside her. A strong arm snaked its way around her waist and pulled her closer still. It took her a few minutes to realize where she was, blinking sleep away as she slowly looked around the room. She felt his chest rising steadily beside her, face slack with sleep. Her mouth went dry as she took in the image of the man. Every muscle perfectly tuned for a fight, marveling that even in sleep he was protective of her, shielding her from the cold.

His chest was rising and falling with each breath, his lips parted slightly, and his arms holding her lithe body firmly against his tightened as she shifted. His warmth crept through her skin. He stirred, groaning softly in unconscious protest of her movement. He smelled faintly of leather and something definitively masculine. Without thinking, she brought a curious finger up to trace along his jawline, up behind his ear, and into his disheveled hair. She ran her fingers down the back of his neck and along the arm holding her, watching as muscles flexed beneath her touch.

He moaned appreciatively. "That feels nice…" He mumbled, voice gravelly from sleep, eyes still closed. Encouraged, she continued running her fingers along exposed skin and back up to his hair. She felt her stomach twist pleasantly at his lazy smile and groan of appreciation. His eyes slowly opened, giving her a look that caused her insides to turn to jelly.

She swallowed hard as he leaned forward, gently pressing his lips to hers. His hand moved down, finger tips dancing over her rear and along the back of her thigh. She was grateful she still had her clothing on, unsure if she could withstand the heat of his fingertips on bare skin. His lips brushed against hers again, more insistently this time. She sighed into the kiss, a heat building in the pit of her stomach.

Cullen brushed his nose against hers, reveling in the moment. Rialla stared up at him, her emerald green eyes full of promise and desire. Her hair had come loose from its braid, ashen blond splayed out behind her like a halo. "Maker's breath, you are _beautiful_." He pressed his forehead against hers, squeezing his eyes shut.

He felt delicate fingers moving up across his chest, leaving a trail of fire as they moved up to his shoulders and eventually lacing themselves into his hair. She gave a gentle tug, urging him forward. Her lips danced across his, her tongue darting out and tracing his lower lip. He gasped, allowing her access as he deepened the kiss. He shifted, positioning himself above her, resting on one arm as his free hand cupped her cheek and pulled her closer. If it was possible, he would have pulled her into him. When she was with him he could breathe again, he felt free of the lyrium, of the nightmares, and if she were but a little closer he imagined he could show her all the ways he loved her.

She wrapped her arms around him, her nails biting into his back and earning a deep growl of desire from him. Gasping, they pulled apart, his eyes shocked at his reaction while hers hungrily devoured every visible inch of him. His expression changed, a bestial part of him that he'd never acknowledged breaking through. A wordless agreement passed between them in the span of a breath. He tore her shirt away from her, his eyes darkening with lust at the sound of the thin cotton tearing. He let out a deep groan as her lips collided with his. He devoured her, swallowing her moans as his hands eagerly explored the newly exposed skin, pulling the silky fabric binding her breasts away, shuddering at the soft mewling sound she made as it slid across her sensitive pale pink nipples.

He shifted suddenly and rose to his knees, he pulled her onto his lap. She gasped as his mouth left hers, leaving her wanting something to replace the feeling. His lips trailed down her neck before hungrily wrapping around one pert nipple. She ground her teeth to keep from crying out, her nails digging into his shoulders as he sucked and nipped at the sensitive bud. His tongue hungrily lapped against her skin, drawing out a deep moan. As he continued, her gasps and sighs becoming uncontrolled whimpers. She curled around him, pulling him closer. She let out a startled gasp when his mouth left her, the sensation of her super-heated skin exposed to the frosty air sending a thrilling jolt of pleasure all the way down to her toes. She moaned desperately as his mouth found the twin, sucking the bud between his teeth, he flicked his tongue across and reveled in the breathy moan he pulled from her as his hands tried to hold her hips down and control her writhing.

She gave up on silence, his hands cupping her rear and lifting her closer to his mouth. She felt a heat unlike anything she'd felt before building, a burning that spread throughout her body. She needed him, more of him. She laced one hand in his hair, gripping roughly she pulled his mouth away from her. His eyes shot to hers, something primal stirring beneath them. With a growl, he captured her lips again, the heat from his lips was all consuming and it left her body in a paralyzing state of euphoria. With deft fingers, he undid the laces of her pants and began to pull them away. He stood, effortlessly lifting her with him. She sucked in a breath as her feet touched cold stone. He tugged the pants down, her hands on his shoulders to balance herself and he slid each foot out of the soft fabric. He pulled away, leaving her standing in all her naked glory before him. He was shocked by her beauty, strong muscles hidden behind lovely feminine curves. She had scars of various sizes over a good portion of her figure, her hair fell just low enough to cover her breasts, _'pity'_ he thought with a smirk.

Rialla's cheeks felt hot as she stood before the Commander, taking in every inch of her without reservation. Her hands instinctively went to cover her nether region, painfully aware of the dampness there. Cullen blinked, confused at first. The realization that she was embarrassed slowly lifted his lips into a small smile. He leaned forward and placed his hands low on her hips. He carefully kissed each finger and across the back of one hand. His lips travelled to the junction of her thigh and where the heel of her hand now rested. She gasped as his tongue traced along the edge of her palm and down toward where her fingers stopped him.

"Won't you let me in?" His deep voice reverberating through her, continuing to kiss and trace all her sensitive areas he can reach. Her core throbbed in anticipation as she slowly removed her hands. "That's a good girl…" He whispered so close to her that his hot breath all but burned her.

Standing before him, looking down into his amber eyes, sent her heart into her throat. He never broke contact, watching her closely as he pressed soft kisses along one thigh and then the other until he reached her mound of soft curls. With a smirk and a wicked gleam, he brought his mouth to her nether lips, his tongue tasting her briefly before plunging into her in some sort of erotic kiss, groaning against her as he felt her grip on his shoulders tighten, her legs beginning to shake with the effort of holding her up. He chuckled, his fingers digging into her thighs as his tongue darted out for another taste of her. She struggled to remember how to breathe, a small squeak escaping her lips as his tongue began its assault on lips never kissed by a man. She all but screamed as his tongue slid past the moist curls once more, this time dancing against the sensitive bundle of nerves hidden within. He groaned appreciatively as his mouth claimed her in a way she never knew possible. As he sucked and licked and nipped at her soft flesh she cried out, nearing her release quickly. As she approached the brink he pulled back, standing suddenly and claiming her mouth again. She nearly lost herself as his tongue forced its way into her mouth, tasting herself on his lips brought with it a whole new sensation. She blindly grabbed for the tie of his pants, he helped pull them off and kicked them away.

She gasped at his nakedness, trailing her fingers along his hardened length. Her eyes fluttered shut as her fingers trailed down the length of him again, moaning softly as his fingers dug into her arms. His forehead pressed against hers and his eyes screwed shut in pure ecstasy.

"I need you…" She whispered, her voice breaking. Cullen's lips found their way to her neck, earning a deep moan as he sucked at the tender skin there, marking her as his. He pushed her back against the bed. She fell back, crawling back as he stalked forward, all his worries and awkwardness replaced by a fierce and all consuming predatory lust. He brought her legs to wrap around his waist, angling himself at her entrance. She could feel the heat coming from him, pressed against her but going no further. Her body ached for him, her legs tightened around his waist, still he came no closer.

" _Fenedhis,_ Cullen!" She hissed at him, glaring up at him. He gave her a satisfied smirk, watching her writhe beneath him was almost enough. _Almost_.

He leaned down, his lips grazing her ear. "Command me. Order me..." His voice was thick with desire, struggling to hold himself back. She moaned in response, her ability to speak again falling away. " _Say it!_ " There was an edge to his voice, a need. He had to hear her say she wanted him, needed him as much as he needed her.

She gasped, trying to form a single word. He growled, pressing against her and driving her sanity away. " _Commander_...I...need...oh, Creators..." She whimpered, her fingers clenched in his hair, her voice hardly more than a whisper. " _I...Cullen, please._ " The look in his eyes stole what little ability she had to breath.

"Sweet Maker…Rialla…" He thrust forward, burying himself to the hilt within her. They moaned in unison. He lowered himself to his elbows, resting his forehead against hers, holding her still as he memorized the way she felt. He had never wanted to stop time so much in his life, to hold onto this one perfect moment forever. She shifted her hips, urging him to move, her arms going around his neck as she sighed and moaned against his lips.

He pulled away and she cried at the loss. He thrust forward again and she moaned, calling out a wordless cry of delight. She found a rhythm, meeting each thrust with her own until they were both panting and gasping, lips finding any where they could to leave their mark.

He felt the world fall away, with each thrust he was one step closer to her, to a freedom he had never allowed himself. She moved with him, pulling him to the brink with her, and diving over the edge. Her body clenched around him in her release, crying out his name like a prayer as she tumbled over the edge. He fell with her, burying his face in her neck, panting hard as wave after wave of euphoric pleasure washed over them. Once again, she had wrapped her body around his, legs intertwining, faces buried in the others neck. His hands found hers, lacing his fingers with hers as he rolled onto his back and pulled her with him. Carefully, he pulled the heavy blanket back around them, holding her for a while longer.

"Cullen…" Her voice was so soft he had to strain to hear her. "I think I'm falling in love with you…" He laughed, suddenly he felt lighter than he had in years. He held her cheeks as he looked up at her, unable to help the broad grin he had…not that he wanted to.

"Rialla, I've been in love with you since Haven." He pulled her forward to kiss her nose. She returned his smile, curling around him once more.

Soon they would have to get up, face the world again. But right now, this was their time. Another stolen moment before they're forced away from one another.


	9. The Seeker

**_AN: I'm changing stuff now...if you don't like it, sorry. Feel free to let me know what I could/should fix :)_**

Rialla had made her way back to her room while the rest of Skyhold slept. The main hall was empty, aside from Varric. She nodded in greeting as she passed. When she reached her room she drew a bath, grateful for the castle and it's many innovations. As the handcrafted wooden tub filled with sulfur scented water she undressed. Josephine had acquired a beautiful full length mirror for her, now standing in the nude before it she felt…different. She had new scars, her muscles firmer now than they had been all those months ago when this started. She noted a small mark just above her heart. Dorian had incinerated the archer who had landed what could have been a fatal shot, his rage manifesting in a nearly uncontrolled blast of magic. _'I am fiercely protective of those who I care for.'_ His friendship irritated Mother Giselle to no end.

She smiled to herself as she remembered the last trip she'd taken with Dorian. They had gone to Redcliff to meet with his father's 'retainer', who had turned out to _be_ his father. She had told Dorian to give him a chance. "We have so little choice in this life. Not family, no control over our heart, and even our own fate-" She held her hand up then, watching the light flicker for a moment. "Make sure you can live with the choices you _can_ make. Your father is here, standing before you in a foreign land, asking his son to forgive him." Dorian had smiled sadly at her then, and after a moment to collect himself, went and spoke with his father. It had ended with him returning to Skyhold with her, his heart lighter than it had been in years.

She sunk into the warm water, thinking of Hawke and Varric. Cassandra had reacted so violently at seeing the woman speaking to Rialla it had actually frightened the dwarf. Cassandra had threatened to leave the Inquisition, to kill Varric, and had all but blamed him for the loss of Haven. Rialla had been furious, at both of them. "She trusted you, Varric. For Cassandra, that's so much more than even you can conceive. She put _her_ faith in you…in your story." Varric had responded with anger, driven by his near fanatical adoration for the Champion. "If I had told the Seeker- If Hawke had been there, she'd be _**dead!**_ " Cassandra had stopped short, her anger had been snuffed out, and without her anger to protect her from the grief of her loss she began to crumble. Varric took a step closer to the woman, frowning, "I didn't lie to you, but I was protecting her. I…I'm sorry. I brought her now, though." Cassandra had held back the tears for as long as she could, held her breath and prayed as hard as she could, and when the dam broke Varric sat beside her and offered quiet comfort as she wept. Rialla had left them alone, Varric rubbing the Seeker's back and whispering soft words of compassion. It had surprised her, on some level, but after her trip through time she had more or less expected Varric and Cassandra to grow closer.

The warm water soothed away her aches, some of which she felt were well deserved. She washed her hair and body and let herself soak until her fingers began to prune. Rialla sighed heavily as weariness set in, soon she'd have to leave the comfort of her room and attend yet another council meeting. What she wouldn't give for everything to be over, to have the chance to rest. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes for a moment. While no stranger to the pleasures of the flesh, Rialla had never experienced anything like Cullen. For all his fumbling around a conversation with her, he had remained the 'Commander' through and through. She honestly hadn't expected him to know the first thing about pleasing a woman, and she was oh so grateful for her error in judgement. He needed only her permission, and once given he was again in control. She smirked as she thought of the many times she had made him blush, and the many nights he'd chased away her nightmares.

"Inquisitor?" Leliana's lilting voice carried through her reverie. "Care to join us today?" There was a touch of humor to her words.

Rialla chuckled softly. "I had considered staying here."

Leliana sat down on a cushioned chair beside the tub. "I don't blame you." She spoke softly. "Cassandra has asked for you to consider looking into the missing Seekers. She has not heard anything since Orlais…I'm worried it may be a similar fate to that of the Templar Order. Corypheus would not likely sit idly by while you make off with his mages."

Rialla began to rise from the water, suddenly in no mood to relax. "That would devastate her." She accepted the towel Leliana offered. "Have your agents found anything we can use? Any trace of them?"

"Yes. It is disturbing to say the least." Leliana rubbed her hands together. "I believe we should move on this, we have the location of the Seeker fortress and, with a small force, could infiltrate without drawing attention to ourselves too soon."

Rialla nodded. "I'll be down shortly, what do Cullen and Josephine think of this?"

"Cullen is decidedly against you and Cassandra charging into the Seeker haven, he believes that if our luck has anything to say about the possible future…well, I'd best let him speak for himself. Needless to say he'd rather you take a large detachment of Templar and Soldiers." Again, there was a glint of something in Leliana's smile, her tone, that lead Rialla to believe she was amused, if not outright enjoying herself.

Rialla gave her a wary smile and went to dress herself. She followed the woman silently to the war room. Cullen was pacing behind the massive table, glaring ominously at the map and tiny markers before him. Rialla caught his eye and for a moment he paused, his eyes seemed to soften at the sight of her. "This plan of yours is dangerous, Leliana."

"I am aware, Commander, however too large a force will be picked off before it has a chance to achieve its goal." She pointed at a few markers indicating Venatori encampments. "The Inquisitor cannot afford to draw their attention, it would compromise the Seeker's goals…as well as putting them in unnecessary danger."

Cullen stopped his pacing and glared hard at the map. Rialla knew he would concede, knew that Leliana was right. "Then I should accompany them. If my men cannot go then I will." Rialla didn't miss the smile that flashed across Leliana's face then.

"Compassion will be the death of you, Cullen." Leliana shook her head ruefully. "No, you cannot leave your men. I trust the Inquisitor and Cassandra can get the right people to assist…even if you are unable to oversee this personally."

"I will be alright, Cu-Commander." Rialla blushed at her lack of formality. "Leliana, have Harding prepare a small group of archers. I'll have Blackwall and Dorian tag along…" She poked at one of the Venatori camps. Leliana nodded and left the room. Josephine had remained quiet, taking notes as the others negotiated. She bowed her head and smiled to Rialla before following Leliana to the door.

Rialla was suddenly very aware of the fact that she was alone with Cullen. He had been glaring at the map, holding the table in a white-knuckle grip.

"Have I upset you?" Rialla half whispered. Cullen's eyes snapped to hers in surprise.

"What? No, I…apologies. I was thinking of something else." He shook his head and rubbed his neck nervously as he straightened up.

Rialla could sense something was amiss in the way he stood, every muscle tense. He looked ready to bolt from the room. She considered simply walking away, figuring she'd give him space to work through whatever it was that had him on edge. She considered that _she_ might be that problem, and by the end of the full minute of silence she was sure the night before had been a mistake for which he was preparing an appropriate apology.

She turned and made for the door, accepting that she'd possibly over analyzed what they had shared. As her hand reached for the handle she heard him whisper 'stop'. Hesitantly she turned to see him moving slowly toward her.

"It's all right Cullen." She started, staring at her feet as he closed the distance between them. "I think I understand…"

He let out a ragged sigh. "You can't possibly understand." He half groaned, forcing himself not to touch her.

Rialla lifted her eyes to his. Every muscle pulled tight as a bow string. She wanted to say something, anything, tell him she had feelings for him, that she _wanted_ to be near him…but she couldn't find the words.

"Andraste preserve me, but I have wanted to be near you for longer than I should be comfortable admitting." His lips quirked into a lopsided grin. "I think the sparring did it, actually." He inched closer. "Watching you sleep, keeping you safe…dancing…with you." His fingers were so close to her cheek she could feel the heat from his hand. She had but to lean, just a bit, and he'd be touching her. "I have no idea what it is you want…or how I'd even begin to give it to you-"

Rialla cut him off with a kiss, her hands gingerly cupping his cheeks. He let out a soft murmur of approval and quickly returned the gesture. Her arms wrapped around his neck as his arms encircled her. She was petite in comparison to him, almost completely engulfed within his grasp. She nipped at his lower lip, her tongue darting out as he gasped. She moaned into the kiss as his tongue danced with hers.

They broke away as suddenly as they'd come together, both gasping and staring at the other wide-eyed and hungry. Cullen leaned his forehead to hers, holding her close.

"You." Rialla whispered as she brought her hands to his chest. The metal breastplate prevented her from touching the skin beneath, feeling his heart hammering in his chest. "I just want you."

He let out a small, relieved, sigh. Chuckling as her lips danced along his neck and under his chin. He ran his hands soothingly up and down her back, giving her a gentle squeeze.

"You know…there are going to be those who talk." Rialla cautiously reminded.

"Let them." Cullen grinned, kissing the top of her head. "Orleasian's love forbidden romance."

She chuckled. "I thought they liked playing games and eating incredibly sad ham." Cullen laughed at that, remembering how one of the elves carrying trays of food had described the ham from the Anderfels.

"Did you eat those tiny cakes? Leliana told me they make one with gold on it out of anise and deep mushroom, it smells worse than it tastes. He scrunched his nose up. "I managed to avoid eating them but poor Josephine must have had four or five of those alone." He made a 'harrumph' sound. "Yet another reason I dislike noble's, even their food is pretentious."

Rialla grinned, mumbling 'pretentious food' and snickering. Cullen smiled down at her as he released her from his grip. As she glanced up, realizing he had moved away, she saw him frown. "I'm going to be fine, Cullen."

"I believe you, but I worry." He took her small hands in his. "I didn't see this coming, I didn't know I would…or could, rather…feel anything like this." Rialla held her breath as he spoke. His voice broke a little as he continued. "Kinloch was horrifying, the single darkest time in my life. I saw my friends tortured, mages losing control and becoming abominations…so much death…" Rialla moved to touch his face only to have him pull away, smiling sadly as he continued. "I cared for her, deeply. She was a mage. I stood as she suffered her Harrowing, I was to strike her down if she failed. She didn't, but she left shortly after."

Rialla gasped at the revelation. "You _knew_ her…" Her voice was hardly a whisper as she listened intently to his story.

"I did, yes. We were friends, and she saved my life in that horrid tower." Cullen shook his head and rubbed his face. "Alistair, that smug little…he became a Grey Warden, as did she obviously, and they had come seeking the First Enchanter, and his mages. She didn't have to save them, and I remember very clearly begging her to kill them all." He glared hard at the ground. "I was a fool-"

"It's called fear, Cullen, and it isn't so different. You are anything _but_ a fool. We all do and say things we regret when faced with our own mortality." She tipped his chin up enough to get him to look her in the eye. "You are a different man now, you've been through a lot…and I happen to rather like you, just as you are."

"You have no idea what I've done, what I've _allowed_ to be done…" Rialla only smirked at him. "If you knew…"

"Does it matter? It is in the past, behind you. You can't live back there, Cullen. It will only leave you broken and alone." She stepped into his arms. "Mamae, mother, always used to warn us not to get lost in the shadows of yesterday." He bowed his head, pressing his forehead to hers, not trusting himself to speak.

He held her for what felt like hours before he released her again. "Thank you, Rialla." He whispered as he placed a light kiss to the top of her head. She nodded, silent and smiling up at him. "Promise to be careful. Please."

"I promise." She whispered back, rising to her tip-toes to place a gentle kiss at the corner of his mouth. She turned and left the War Room, turning her thoughts to Cassandra and the Seekers.

She made her way through the hall, ignoring the whispers of those congregating in the main hall. She never knew why so many were there, they never did anything…just milled around waiting to talk with Josephine or ate.

She made her way through the main hall, casting a glance up to Vivienne as she made her way through. That woman gave her a bad feeling, and the conversation from two nights back had done nothing to ease her mind. Vivienne's view toward her brethren left Rialla wondering if she truly wished to help them, or had intended to turn them Tranquil. _'Magic is dangerous, just as fire is dangerous. Those who forget are likely to get burned.'_ She said, arrogantly excluding herself from such a category. "I know my limits and would like nothing more than to reinstate the Circle of Magi." She noted. "I would not see our progress marred by an abomination running loose within our own camp."

"And what of Dorian, Solas, or any one of the Dalish mages? Would you capture them and force your will upon them?" Rialla bit back.

"No, of course not my dear." Vivienne laughed back. "No, darling. I would eliminate any threat to our peace." Her tone turned dangerous. "Just as you must, I will take the necessary precautions to see that _all_ magic is contained…safely, of course."

"You'd kill them!" She hissed. Not for the first time, she wished she'd ignored the woman's demand to join the Inquisition.

"Not me, no. The Templar would. That is their sacred duty." Vivienne was, if nothing else, impossible to rile. She remained dangerously calm, always thinking four steps ahead. Every conversation with her was like a chess match. Rialla glared at her, hating her more by the second.

"I will see to it, personally, that you are never succeed." She turned to leave.

"When the time comes, dear girl, you'll be begging for the Circle." She had said with a laugh. "It is the only way to save these people, after all."

Now, walking out toward Dorian and Cassandra, Vivienne watched her with a hint of a smile. It made her skin crawl. Dorian stepped up to her as she passed beneath Vivienne's perch. "I absolutely hate that wretched bitch."

Dorian guffawed at her as they followed Cassandra out to the main gate. Blackwall waited with their mounts below. "She's a force of nature, and quite used to getting her way. I'd be careful not to upset her." Dorian gave Rialla a look that made her nervous. "Vivienne is a truly gifted mage, but her true power is her iron will, resolve, and the fact that she's the resources to see her goals reached…by any means."

"She'd never think to challenge me, I'm the Inquisitor." Rialla huffed indignantly.

"You're just a woman, and that is just a title…both of which can be destroyed with naught but the flick of a wrist. I only suggest you use caution." Dorian's face turned somber. "You're needed now, but after Corypheus is dealt with…then you'll become the wildling who lived with the Dalish once more, and your title will count for very little in her eyes."

Rialla sighed heavily and nodded. "I know, and that frightens me."

Dorian's grin spread. "Oh good, I was starting to think your night with Cullen had robbed you of _all_ your sense." He dodged her playful slap.

"If you two are quite done, we should get going." Cassandra grumbled, rolling her eyes with a disgusted huff when Dorian winked at her. "This is going to be unbearable." She grumbled as she rode away from them, Blackwall following with a small chuckle.

It took eleven days to reach Caer Ostwin. Travel through Crestwood had been hampered by heavy rains and the occasional rift, but was otherwise uneventful. They made camp a half days ride from the fortress in order to plan their next move.

"Cassandra?" Rialla cautiously approached the Seeker. She turned toward Rialla slowly. "I know this is stupid to ask, but are you alright?"

Cassandra smiled sadly at her. "No, I suppose I'm not, but I appreciate your concern." She turned back to stare out at the rolling hills leading toward the Castle. "My brothers and sisters are just over that hill. Did I fail them when I left the Order?"

Rialla let out a small sigh. "No." The older woman turned to her, curious. "No more than Cullen did, or I for leaving our past behind. You _were_ right to leave, though others will disagree. You had to do what was necessary. Perhaps Seeker Lucius will see this, perhaps not."

Cassandra nodded. "He is not the same man he once was. I fear, with all that has happened, they have been more affected that even Leliana could know." She clenched her fists at her side. "I should not have left them!"

"What could you have done? Take control of the Seekers? Challenge Lucius and his men in Orlais? You are the Right Hand of the Divine, Cassandra. You are called to higher purpose and that can often mean we suffer for it." Rialla eyed her hand before turning to Cassandra. "Doubt pulls at all of us, fear that we've failed or damned those we love. You've made so many sacrifices. Whatever is happening in that fortress right now, it isn't right. I know you can feel it."

Cassandra let out a shuddering sigh. "I am very much afraid of what we are going to find there. I only hope we are not too late." Cassandra turned away from her. "Get some rest, I will take first watch. I must make peace with what I may face tomorrow." Rialla nodded despite the fact that Cassandra couldn't see her and returned to her tent.

"It is a hard thing to face your friends, harder than facing ones fears." Blackwall spoke softly from his seat by a small campfire. Dorian not far from him. "She knows what must be done and will see it through, no matter the cost to her."

"I worry about that. If things are as bad there as they are everywhere else, if the corruption has reached even them...I worry there will be very little of Cassandra left." Rialla took a seat beside the Warden.

"Cassandra is a survivor, Rialla." Dorian reassured. He turned to look at the warrior standing watch. "I've never admired her more." He smiled faintly, Rialla and Blackwall nodded their agreement. "We should rest, tomorrow is going to be a very long day."

Rialla managed to get a few hours rest before it was her turn to take watch. She was grateful to have the last watch and be there when the sun began to rise. The sky was like a painting, streaked bright blue and deep purple. The suns rays sent a shock of orange and pink chasing away the dark of the night, birds began to sing to the morning as deer made their way out toward meadows of wild flowers and green grass. It was beautiful and serene. The last moments of calm before the onslaught to come.

Rialla woke the others before dismantling her tent and preparing what she'd need for the fight. Leliana's archers had already made a quick sweep of the grounds surrounding the keep and returned with disturbing news.

"Vacant?" Cassandra worried her hands together.

"Not empty, not entirely, but it seems very few remain in the Keep." The archer replied.

"Very few alive, you mean." The Seeker frowned, rubbing the bridge of her nose. "Very well, thank you for the report." She turned to Rialla. "We're running out of time."

"Agreed." Rialla turned to the mage and Warden. "We must hurry." They nodded and mounted their horses. "Keep a few of your men back, if we are unsuccessful Leliana must know immediately." The archer nodded and retreated back to the woods.

They rode hard, covering the distance to the fortress itself in a few hours, going the remaining distance on foot.

The Keep itself was in a sad state of disrepair. Walls were crumbling, two towers had completely collapsed and left only rubble and a skeleton of what they once were. It appeared, for all intents and purposes, to be abandoned. If not for Dorian and Cassandra's ability to sense magic, Rialla would have assumed they had arrived too late.

"Something is here, with the Seekers." Dorian grimaced.

Cassandra nodded with a glare. They approached a door at the base of the Keep. "This will lead into the larder, or it was when I was last here." The door opened easily, hinges creaking softly. Immediately Cassandra saw two of the red Templar, both appearing equally surprised to see her. She launched at them with a roar, her shield slamming into the face of one while her sword caught the second in the gut. He fell with a gurgle. Dorian sent a stream of fire at the one still standing, blood pouring from his shattered nose. He opened his mouth to scream as the flames licked at his skin and was silenced by an arrow to his throat.

Blackwall mirrored Cassandra, moving up the left flank. Shouts could be heard just down the dark hallway. "Not so vacant after all." Blackwall swung wide, taking the head off the next soldier through the door.

Cassandra glanced down the hall, torches illuminating enough for her to make out the eerie glow of the tainted Templar. "Bees!" She turned to Rialla, who handed over a jar Sera had crafted before they left. _'Always take bee's, always.'_ The jar sailed down the hallway, shattering at the feet of several soldiers.

They screamed as an impossibly large swarm of bee's filled the hallway, covering their faces and hands like a heavy blanket of needles and venom. The distraction was enough for the four of them to pass through, dispatching the guards with little difficulty. They made their way up to the main hall where a dozen more Templar waited. Rialla nocked an arrow back and aimed for the center of the group. With a few whispered words she let it go, diving to the side as the arrow hit its mark and exploded. Cassandra charged in like a raging bull, knocking the soldiers aside with unsettling ease. Dorian focused his spells on keeping Cassandra and Blackwall protected, his magic having little effect on the well prepared Templar. Blackwall cut down one after the other, he and Cassandra carving a bloody path toward the Lord Seeker.

As the last in the room fell, Rialla shouldered her bow. "Were any of them...?" Rialla began, stopped as Cassandra shook her head in the negative.

"None were Seekers...all Templar." She kicked the helmet of one of the felled creatures away. "Through those doors is an antechamber that leads to the practice yard and beyond that the Lord Seekers chambers and the barracks." She started toward the door, the others following through. As they moved down another dimly lit hallway they neared daylight and a stairway leading up to the yard. Rialla could just make out a man slumped at the base of the stairs, barely breathing. Three Templar barred their path to him, laughing at the Seeker and her companions.

"So, _Seeker_. Come to offer your head, have you?" Rialla recognized him as the soldier at Lucius' side in Orlais. "A little late, bitch." He cast a glance to the dying man at his feet. "Looks like this one is another failure." He spoke to the soldiers on either side of him. "When I'm done with this filth, we'll extract it from him and use her-" He thrust his blade toward Cassandra. "As the next host. Beat the bitch down enough and she'll do anything." His sickly sallow skin and crimson eyes made Rialla's stomach churn.

Cassandra said nothing, standing stoic and silent before them. She held her shield up in one hand and sword in the other, bowing her head in silent prayer.

"Ah, do you think your God's will answer?!" His laugh made Rialla shake her head, as if the voice were trying to invade her very mind. Blackwall placed a steady hand on her shoulder. Dorian placed a hand on Cassandra's shoulder just as she lifted her head. Slowly, she started toward the man. Eyes fixed on her target. He moved toward her with a maniacal grin. She let him take the first swing, and as his blade neared her a white light erupted from the ground beneath her. He screamed in rage and pain as it burned his corrupted skin and sent him sailing back toward the other two, equally startled men. "KILL HER, KILL HER NOW!" He shrieked in pain as he scrambled to his feet. He made to run up the stairs but Rialla was faster, loosing an arrow that hit him in the neck and sent him over the side of the stairs. Blackwall charged the guard to Cassandra's left, his heavy shield knocking him off his feet. Blackwall raised the shield and slammed it down on the fallen mans neck, crushing it and killing him. Cassandra continued toward the remaining soldier, her unwavering gaze causing him to panic and drop his sword. He fell to his knees before her, begging incoherently for her to spare him. She reached forward, leaning enough to look him in the eye, and drove her blade through his chest. As she withdrew the sword he slumped to the ground before her. She stepped over the body and rushed toward the man they'd been standing over.

"DANIEL!" Her voice held an edge of fear as she dropped to his side. "Damn you, Daniel! You should have come with me..."Her voice broke. She pulled him into her arms.

"C-Cassandra? You're...alive?" His voice was weak and rasping. Rialla, Blackwall, and Dorian stood back as she held the ailing man. His skin was marred by dark red and black lines that reminded Rialla of river snakes she'd seen in the Kocari Wilds. Vile things, venom strong enough to kill a dozen grown men. These snakes were beneath his skin, crawling over his body and spreading their venom.

"What have they done to you?" Cassandra sobbed, holding him closer. Daniel brought his hand up to touch her arm.

"They're trying to... _infect_ us...with demons." He gasped in pain. "The Lord Seeker...he called us...back. One by one..." He coughed, blood trickling down his chin. "We fell...I was afraid...for you." He wheezed and coughed again.

"I'm so sorry, my dear friend." Her eyes were closed tightly, as if there were some way to will him well. "I never should have left you."

"If you hadn't...you'd be dead." He smiled up at her, bringing a hand to her cheek. Her eyes opened slowly, tears falling freely. "You can save what few...oh Gods...what few remain."

"Lucius is here?" She gaped down at him.

"He isn't Lucius any longer..." Daniel whispered, body growing weaker by the second. "Please, avenge us...save us." Cassandra nodded silently. "Cassandra." His eyes were seeking hers, trying to convey his next request without saying it aloud. "As my friend...mentor...please..."

Cassandra sobbed, shaking her head back and forth. "Don't ask me to do that, Daniel. Please...we can help you! I have healing potions, the Inquisitor is here!" Rialla bowed before him.

"No...no time." He continued to smile through his pain. "I know the...demon...it's still inside...me. Please, don't let me die like this." Daniels smile faltered. "Give me...peace."

Rialla turned away, hiding her face in Dorian's shoulder. Blackwall moved to stand beside Cassandra, offering her a reassuring nod. "Give your friend peace, Seeker." He spoke softly before turning away toward Rialla.

Cassandra eased herself free of Daniel and stood before him, wiping tears away with the back of a bloody hand. "You were a good man, Daniel." She began, her voice failing as another sob broke free. "Maker...Maker take you to his side, Andraste preserve your soul." She drove her blade through his heart, screaming as she felt it pierce flesh and bone. Collapsing to her knees, she wept. Blackwall gave her a moment as she placed Daniel's sword over his body, crossing his hands over the hilt. "I will see you again, my friend." She whispered.

She stood and turned to her friends. "We finish this now." She glowered at them, turning her sorrow to rage and taking off toward the practice yard.

The sudden change from dim, candle lit, hallways to full sunlight was jarring. Rialla blinked several times against the light, her eyes quickly adjusting to the change. In the middle of the practice arena stood a man in full armor, grinning maliciously at them.

"Well, if it isn't the long lost Seeker! Cassandra, how good of you to join us!" He gave her a mocking bow. "You're a bit late, though." He laughed, a sound that sent shivers down Rialla's spine. "I'm utterly amazed at the gullibility of your brethren. I tell them I've found a way to stop the Elder One and they coming _running_. Like sheep to slaughter, they all fell." He made a wide gesture at the grounds. "I'm surprised, though. They were much tougher than he'd said they would be, and even in this form, with his incredible knowledge, the Lord Seeker did not know exactly _how_ difficult it would be to force the demons into you."

Cassandra gasped for air, falling to her knees and shaking her head. "Oh yes, Seeker." He continued, taking a few steps toward her. "They suffered, begged for death. If only they'd been as desperate as Lucius...no matter." He turned to Rialla. "I will have a much easier time getting into _her_ head. Imagine the power I will wield then!" He clapped his hands together excitedly.

"This is...it's not possible!" She managed to choke the words out, clutching the hilt of her sword with all her might. "Demons cannot be forced into a body, only mages could be... _how_ did this happen?!" She mostly spoke to herself, not expecting an answer from the creature before her. "Lucius...how could you?"

"He's dead." It answered, still smiling. "I stole his memories, thoughts, I erased him and created this." He gestured at his body. "All in his likeness. Fooled you, stupid girl."

Dorian stepped forward, hand held up in what seemed like a pacifying gesture. "You mean to say, you are a demon...in his body?" He knelt beside Cassandra, hooking a hand under one arm and hauling her to her feet. "That is truly remarkable." Cassandra shot him a horrified look. Dorian gave a slight shake of his head and continued. "You must be rather powerful, then, to take over the Lord Seeker. He was an elite among his ilk."

Rialla saw her opening. As Dorian played into the creatures vanity, its disguise began to fail. The two Red Templar knights on either side of it were focused on the Tevinter mage moving toward them and paid no attention to Rialla and Blackwall.

"Go to Cassandra, get her back. I'm going to try something." She darted to cover, moving quietly behind them.

Blackwall edged toward the Seeker's Templar guards.

"Kind of you to notice, mage. Perhaps you'd like to play host to one of my kind. Imagine the power you could wield!" The demons eyes narrowed, his grin turning to something completely feral. "Or rather, what power we could wield through you. Can't have that damned conscience getting in the way now." It chuckled.

"Oh heavens no, though I appreciate the offer. I'm far too pretty to become an abomination." Rialla was now directly behind him. "You, however, seem to pull of the garish masquerade nicely."

The barb hit home. "How dare you!? I've made a masterpiece of this _pathetic_ mortal vessel!" It all but screamed at him.

"Oh quite. Honestly, your vanity does you little credit. You miss all the little things in your foolish pursuit for perfection. His eyes were brown, not black and oozing." Dorian stopped and smiled proudly. "And you completely mucked up the face...what happened to his nose?"

Suddenly it screamed, all pretense of Lucius falling away as it tore free of its mask.

"DORIAN, RUN!" Rialla shouted behind it, raising her hand above her. The mark erupted, shooting a bolt of green energy into the sky just above the creature. A rift tore open and began pulling everything near it in. The Templar were caught completely off guard and flew in, dissolving on contact with the rift. "You pathetic knock off, the Lord Seeker was a _warrior_! You demons talk too much..." Rialla bore down on it. "Dread wolf take you." She hissed.

"I fooled you. You never would have known if I hadn't left you a clue." Its impossibly long arms clawed for purchase, trying desperately to pull itself free of the rift.

Cassandra came rushing across the yard toward it, blade held high. With a scream of pure rage she brought the blade down, nearly severing the demons head completely. It fell with a sickening plop before being sucked back into the fade. Rialla closed her eyes and focused on closing her hand, collapsing once the rift sealed.

"Andraste's flaming arse, Dorian, that was bloody idiotic!" Blackwall grabbed the man by his shoulders. "But damned brave. Good thinking." He smiled, clapping him on the back and leading him toward Rialla. "You alright, Inquisitor?"

Rialla gasped for air, sweating profusely from the strain and cradling her hand. "As okay as I can be." She winced as Cassandra helped her to her feet. As Dorian made his way over he noticed a key lying in the grass, still wet with blood. He picked it up and handed it to Cassandra. "Is that the key to the Lord Seekers office?" Cassandra nodded slowly. "We should check it out."

Cassandra led them to his door, bloody hand prints marked the door and wall. She carefully unlocked the door and nudged it open. Inside looked like a massacre had taken place. Blood and bits of flesh and bone covered most of the room. On the desk lay a large tome, open to some random section as if he'd been reading when this happened. Cassandra walked through the gore to the table and collected the book. "This book..." She whispered, gently running her fingers along the page. "It holds all the knowledge and history of the Seekers of Truth. Rituals, the first Inquisition...everything that I believe in is written here." She smiled sadly, turning the page. "I am holding the only surviving proof our... _my_ Order ever existed." She clutched the book to her chest and sighed heavily.

Dorian frowned at the mess. "Perhaps it can be used to find where the others are? Maybe even rebuild the Order at some point."

Cassandra nodded and said nothing. She glanced around the room quickly, then turned on her heel and left. "We should get back to Skyhold. There's nothing for us here, now." Her voice had gone cold, flat even. Her face an emotionless mask. "We'll need to refocus our attention on more important matters for now." She started back toward the stairway and stopped, looking over her shoulder toward Rialla. "Thank you for allowing me this. It needed to be done." She then turned and left.

The trip back to Skyhold was quiet. Cassandra kept to herself, said nothing to anyone, and upon reaching the castle she immediately sequestered herself in her room. Rialla let her have the space she seemed to need. She was familiar with loss and grief. Solitude could often be the best, and only, companion for one in such deep despair. Varric refused to heed any warning and forced his presence on the Seeker, and to everyone's collective surprise she allowed him.

"They're kindred spirits." Leliana spoke softly as she approached Rialla in the Tavern. "He knows better than most the desperate pain of loss." Rialla nodded, sipping her wine. "How are you doing? The reports were..." Leliana drifted off, taking a seat beside her near the hearth. Bull and his company had been drinking and laughing on the far side of the Tavern, Maryden sat not far off strumming her lute. The tavern was virtually empty, a rare sight these days.

"I am fine, Leliana. I'm overwhelmed, horrified, and some how still surprised at the lengths people will go for their own greed." She turned toward the assassin. "I must remember what I'm doing, and why. If I waver..." She finished her drink. "Well, we all know what may happen then." Rialla stood and made for the door. "Thank you for asking, Leliana."

As Rialla stepped out into the cool night air she pulled her cloak closer to her body. It felt as if she'd never be warm again, body chilled straight to her soul. With a quick shake of her head she turned toward the Keep. She'd stashed a few bottles of wine in her room, now desperate to be alone she almost broke into a run.

"Wait." A voice called from behind her. She didn't need to turn around to know it was the Commander. "You've been gone for weeks, return with hardly enough time to hand in the report of your success, and hide in the tavern." Cullen walked around to face her. "Do I mean so little you couldn't spare a moment of your time to let me know you're alright?"

"I'm far from _alright_ , Commander." Rialla bit out, wincing at the harshness of her tone. "I need some time."

Cullen let out a small sigh. He made to move toward her and seemed to think better of it. "I understand." He spoke softly, seemingly unaffected by her coldness. "I'll be here when...if you need me." He nodded to her and stepped out of her way.


End file.
